Van Horn sighed lightly as the native leaders of the town shuffled squeamishly into the small area that the Republic had been using as a makeshift command post. There was nothing particularly special set up, just a makeshift table pieced together from scrap wood planks laying next to the native barn they were standing next to, on top of which were some maps from Tanaka's map case.

What made the area intimidating to the locals, however, was Tanaka's Guillotine IIC, Lieutenant Peterson's command tank, and the two battle armored infantry leaders in full combat kit that stood around the area.

Thank God for Alexis, though, he thought as the gatón calmly explained to the town's leaders just what machines these were, and why their pilots could be trusted. Because we're not killing you, van Horn thought as the last lupar in line, a wizened old man in priest's robes, reached where the Republic officers stood in a crescent facing the new arrivals. Strangely, he seemed the least daunted, and van Horn was put in the mind of a certain shaman he knew. Nice to see that some people can stand up in the face of adversity with bravery.

Then, standing in the line with the Republic officers, van Horn cleared his throat and began to speak in Lupari. "Gentlemen leaders of Kaytor, my name is Doctor Earl van Horn, and I will be helping to translate along with my friend, Alexis." He paused to gesture to the gatón, who took it as her cue to walk over and join her human friend. "Our time is short, and so we must dispense with full protocol.

"These are the leaders of our small force," he continued, gesturing with his hand at the other Republic officers. "Captain Tanaka, the lady standing in the middle, is the one in charge here, so she will speak and I will translate."

The lupar, save for the older priest and the young man named 'Kaeno' that van Horn had briefly met, all looked at the asiatic MechWarrior with suspicion. "Another woman?" One of the men in the group asked. "What is this, the end of the world?"

"It can be," Alexis quipped quickly to cover her flash of anger. "For your village, at least. Right now, debate on whether women can be in charge or not should wait. We simply don't have the time."

"You keep mentioning a lack of time," another lupar, the one Alexis recognized as the rotund Gernor. Unlike the others, though, he seemed to be getting a handle on his emotions. "But I don't understand this. The invaders have been defeated, and the field of battle is yours. Why is there no time?"

"Because more invaders are on their way," van Horn countered. "Those large 'metal giants' you call them? There's thirty-six of them coming this way as we speak."

That was enough for the locals to hold their tongues as they tried to contemplate such an enormous sight. Van Horn decided to press on. "We are not invincible. The enemy outnumbers us greatly, and we cannot guarantee any real victory that would leave your town still standing."

Again, a silence fell. Then the old priest spoke up. "If this is true, then what good is it for us to be discussing it?" He asked calmly. "Unless you have some sort of plan to deal with it?"

Van Horn nodded, and he managed to keep an appreciative smile off of his face. Nice to see he's smart, too. "We do, although it's not something to undertake lightly," he said, and then paused to take in a breath. "Basically, we can evacuate your town, and protect you until we can get reinforcements to beat back the enemy." Not to mention find a more defensible position than a town on a plain.

The suggestion rose yet another silence, which was soon interrupted by the local leaders murmuring amongst themselves. Then one of them spoke up. "You can't be serious! Just leave? This is our home, and has been for generations."

"A fitting epitaph to carve on your tombstone, no doubt," Alexis spoke up, adding in a slight growl into her voice, the tone and words making the lupar who had spoken flinch. "We're not saying to leave permanently. The invaders will be dealt with eventually, and when the time comes when this area is safe, we'll help you come back," she paused to look over the council members again. "But for right now, we can't guarantee your safety here. We won't force you to leave, or anything, but if you decide to remain, we won't."

She saw Acryu frown at that. "You won't defend us?" Behind that question, Alexis saw another layer. You won't do your duty? She gulped a bit and shook her head slightly. "Not exactly like that. We can and will defend you if you leave with us, but staying here would be suicide for us as well as for all of you."

"So the alternative is run, and leave our homes, or to stay here and die?" Gernor asked rhetorically. "I don't see much of a choice. How much time do we have?"

Alexis looked up at van Horn, who took in a breath. "That's the problem. If we had any real time, we wouldn't be having this discussion. Or at least, we wouldn't be having it so soon," he added quickly. "The enemy formation is approaching us even now, and we have only three hours before they get here."

That brought another round of silence, this one far longer than the last three. Then finally, one of the councilmen cleared his throat and spoke. "That is not much time. How can we possibly be ready by then?"

"By only taking the bare essentials," van Horn replied. "Some clothes, as much food as you can carry, and little else. Leave everything behind that you can't carry on your backs. And most importantly, do it now, before we waste any more time."

"And why should we trust you?" One of the other lupar asked. "You just appear, without warning, and we should listen to you?" Before he received an answer, the short, middle-aged lupar wheeled on Acryu. "And you! You conspired with these people and brought us to ruin!"

"What?" Acryu almost shouted as he turned to face the man. "Are you mad? We were treated terribly by the invaders! At least these people seek to advise us, rather then order us," he gestured to the Republic officers at the last. "So they give us bad news? Well, at least they are telling us, rather than leaving us without a word and letting us be killed when the invaders come!"

The one called Gernor looked over at van Horn then. "Is that a fair assumption? Will the invaders kill us if we stay?"

Van Horn frowned at the question, and he took a moment to think. Finally, he nodded slightly. "I think so, yes."

"You think so?" The shrill lupar asked. Then he turned to his fellows. "We should be glad for this help? I say we ignore these women-following fools!"

"That's it!" Alexis hollered, bringing their attention back to her. She fumed and glared at the speaking lupar. "You know what? You can take that crap and shove it up your tail hole," she snapped at the shrill man. "We didn't come here to be insulted, we didn't save your asses just so we could throw it back in our faces, and we certainly aren't going to stand around while you commit suicide!"

With that, she spun on her right foot and looked at van Horn. "Doctor, I think that we should just advise Captain Tanaka that we should leave and don't look back," she said quickly, but in Lupari.

Van Horn almost took her seriously, until, that is, he saw her twitch an ear down three times. That, and the fact she was 'advising' him in Lupari told him that she wanted the council to hear. All right, I'll play along. "You seem to have a good idea there, Alexis," he said in feigned seriousness and then he turned his head to look at the lupar standing in front of the humans. "Gentlemen, sorry to have wasted your time. It seems that we've made a mistake thinking that you actually cared for your families' lives." He nodded then, and turned around to take a step towards where his superiors stood, Alexis mirroring his movements with her own.

"Wait!" The call, expected, made van Horn and Alexis pause and turn back to face the council, seeing the lupar wide-eyed, and Acryu speaking. "You can't just leave us here just because this pompous windbag can't keep his muzzle shut!"

"Pompous? Windbag?" The shrill lupar raised his voice at Acryu. "I'll show you, you upstart-"

"Shut up!" Gernor yelled to the lupar standing next to him, and he growled as the shrill one turned back. "I've had enough of your complaining, Karm. You've done nothing but whine and complain since your father put you onto this council. Well, he's dead now, and so are you if you drive away the only people who can help us now."

Karm backed a step from Gernor, and the muttered agreement with the latter's words made him blush. "All I want is to see to the best interests of this town."

"You mean the best interests of your own family," Acryu added in from the side. "Everyone knows your family is the biggest land owner here. Well, it's not worth much in the face of the invaders, now is it?" He asked with contempt in his voice. "Now, shut up or I swear that I'll leave you trussed up in those fields of yours for the invaders to find!"

At that, Karm backed up a few steps from everyone else. "You- you're all mad!" He said nervously. "Don't you see? Acryu is conspiring with these new invaders to drive us all away so they can take our land!"

Van Horn rolled his eyes at this, and he quickly yanked his pistol free of its holster and aimed towards Karm. Then he fired, and the weapon sent a .45 caliber bullet straight between his ears, just barely passing over his head to slam into the barn behind him.

The sudden report of the weapon, and the bullet grazing past him shut Karm up and it drew the attention of everyone on the anthropologist-soldier. "We don't need to conspire one fucking bit," he said, putting to use the curse words he had cajoled Mikula and Pavlo to teach him, and he holstered his weapon. "The fact is, we can take whatever we want, whenever we want, and leave you all dead if you so much as cough at us.

"But we are not doing these things," he continued, and he paused a moment to let this thought sink in. "We don't want your land, we don't want your wealth. All we want to do is save your lives and the lives of all of your families. Now," he gestured back to the maps sitting on the table behind him. "You can either learn to trust us and we can all find a route that will keep everyone safe and relatively unexhausted, or you can bitch and moan the whole fucking night. Which will it be?"

The coming of dawn illuminated a scene that Alexis found heartbreakingly familiar; A line of natives were walking along a path that had been blazed by the rumbling mass of two of Checker Lance's 70-ton Abrams tanks. Many had only small bundles tied to their backs, while a few had carts, though these had been commandeered to carry the sick, elderly and very young.

The natives of Kaytor hadn't been happy when their leaders had told them it was leave or die, but the fact that the Republic forces had killed their oppressors and had taken the time to heal the few wounded managed to buy them some goodwill, and so the town had gathered up in the little time they had and had left prior to dawn.

Now, they were marching west for the mountains and, hopefully, for a safe place to 'hole up' as the Republic officers put it. Alexis knew, too, that a 'mech lance was also to join up with them, and hopefully, the two forces would be enough to defend a position long enough for the transports to fly in and evacuate the locals.

All of this passed through the gatón's mind as she trudged alongside the lupar near the front of the line. Although she could have ridden with Tanaka in her 'mech, she had wanted to provide an example for the denizens of Kaytor, and her human friends had agreed wholeheartedly.

At least I had just enough time to change, Alexis thought as she walked along in her M.I. field uniform, her pack on her shoulders. I don't think I can stand to wear my old clothing anymore. It's all so itchy and hot. She had to admire the artificial fibers of her uniform for the way they combined comfort with heat dissipation, all the more so because it was a gray color that usually wasn't noted for being especially cooling.

Of course, it also helps that we're in the forest, Alexis mentally added as she walked around another tree. Though the sun poked through the trees, its light was still diffused a bit from the overhanging canopy, and so the procession marched on in a sort of green tinted twilight. However, the headlights on the two lead Abrams tanks and the spotlight from Tanaka's Guillotine IIC cut through the gloom as they led the train of natives. Each side of the traveling line had one of Oni Lance's battlemechs – Myers' Corvus on the right and Carmike's Wyvern IIC on the left – and trailing was the remaining two Abrams tanks and Stein's Grizzly, although both of the 70-ton 'mechs walked offset to the side so that their large footprints wouldn't create any opportunity for someone to trip over.

Not that such things didn't happen, though, as one lady taking a quick fall to her knees off to Alexis' left attested to. Her pack nearly slid off her shoulders, and people behind her started to scrunch up as their progress was held up.

Alexis quickly moved to the lady's side, and she grabbed the female lupar by the upper arm. "Let me help," she said softly in Lupari and helped her stand along with another native from the town who had reached her side.

"Thank you both," the not-quite-middle-aged woman said to both of her helpers. Then she shouldered her pack a bit more securely.

"Are you okay?" Alexis asked. "Are you tired? Feeling ill?"

"No, I'm fine," the lady replied with a shake of her head. "Thank you anyway." With that, she started forward, having barely looked at Alexis.

The single gatón in the group sighed and started off again along with those who had slowed to walk around the small scene. Soon, everyone was again moving off at a regular pace, and Alexis worked her way back to the outside of the group.

The way she acted is typical, I think, she mused as she picked her way just to the right of the tread track formed by the advance tanks. After all, how else would you expect someone to act when they have to leave their home with only what they can carry on their backs?

"Feeling tired yourself?" A voice intruded on her consciousness, and Alexis started a bit before she turned her head to look at who had spoken. Sure enough, off to her right, van Horn was walking along in his own scout armor, his weapon held at the ready, though not aimed at anything specific.

His helmet's on, but I'd recognize that voice anywhere, Alexis thought and she gave her friend a small smile. "I'm fine, thank you Earl."

Van Horn nodded. "That's good," he said, and then paused for a bit before sighing. "This sort of gives you the feeling of déjà vu, doesn't it?"

Alexis recognized the human term and nodded. "It certainly does," she said, and then softly sighed as well. "Why do things keep turning out this way, Earl?" She asked suddenly. "How come no matter how much we do, we always seem to be one step behind?"

Van Horn didn't reply right away. Instead, the pair walked alongside each other and the procession of natives for a few moments before he spoke up. "Alexis, I can't really say," he said quietly. "Why does anything bad happen in the world? Such things cannot be readily explained, and the greatest minds of my people's past have spent all their lives pondering such things." He shook his helmeted head a bit. "All I can say, Alexis, is that there's a reason for such things, for this action we're taking right now. Such is the will of God."

This brought on another few moments of silence before Alexis cleared her throat. "Earl? Might I ask you a personal question?"

Van Horn turned his head to look at the gatón, and he nodded. "I suppose, though I can't guarantee that I'll answer."

Alexis returned the nod and took a moment to collect her thoughts. "It occurs to me after all this time, that I've never really asked you about your people's religion before…" She let her voice drift off a bit to see if van Horn would have any reaction. Seeing or hearing none, Alexis went on. "I was just wondering, just what is it your people believe in?"

Another bout of silence came over the two as they walked alongside the natives of Kaytor. Finally, just about when Alexis was about to apologize for her curiosity, van Horn finally spoke. "Alexis, I don't think I should be the one to speak to you of religion," he said and then took a breath, which Alexis could hear as his speakers lightly broadcast the noise. "I can only tell you about my personal beliefs, which are not always the same as other persons.' Hell," he chuckled briefly. "We have many, many different religions, and each one says something different. But then, they also have a common theme, and I suppose that's what I live my life by."

"What might those be?" Alexis asked quietly. "I mean, if I'm not being too nosy."

"Well, if you were any other person, you would be," van Horn said. "But then, you've learned so much from us, Alexis, that I can't be surprised that you'd naturally be curious about our religious beliefs. And it would be rather kind of hypocritical of me to not be as open with them as I've been with everything else…" He shook his head. "Still, it's not something many of us talk about. We consider it a private affair, best not discussed due to the fact that it tends to cause confrontations." He paused to sigh yet again. "Some of our worst wars have begun because of religious differences, and as a result, humanity as a whole now follows a general, unwritten rule. Namely, don't talk about religion if you can help it."

"I'm sorry then," Alexis said and she turned to face forward, her ears going down a bit in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to offend."

Van Horn sighed again. "You're not offending, Alexis. I'm just trying to say just why it might be a bit hard for me to speak of such things with you. All the more so because I don't want to soil your mind with my own beliefs, when you undoubtedly have your own."

Alexis now took a moment of silence to think before she replied. "I think I see… Though I still wonder a bit at how you can seemingly take some things, like our current situation, in stride and call it the will of some god."

"Not 'some' god, Alexis, the God." Van Horn corrected her. "That is, that's the common belief amongst humans, that there is only one entity who created the universe and rules over it." He shrugged. "But, like I said, that's our common belief. There are some religions like yours, that believe in many different gods, and some that believe in spirits and mystic forces more than any deities." He shook his head then. "But I don't want to sound like I'm correcting you, Alexis. Another unwritten rule of behavior with humans nowadays is that all religions are, in essence, equal."

Alexis glanced at van Horn and frowned. "But how can that be? If every religion is different, then how can they all be equal? Surely only one is right and all the others are wrong, aren't they?"

"And which one is right Alexis?" Van Horn asked her, and the question made her pause. "There's the rub. That's the reason so many bloody wars were fought over such trivialities. No one could really decide who was right, so they resorted to making themselves right by eliminating the competition." Van Horn paused to shake his head again, slowly this time. "Then about a thousand years ago, the rapid pace of scientific progress started to show some religious beliefs as false, and this caused a crisis of faith amongst those who lived at the time.

"Eventually, they started to look over everyone else's religion, and they found startling similarities. All the basics were there, 'be nice, don't murder, and don't steal.' These were basic truths that all rational humans lived by, and soon, many in their faiths started to realize that all religions have the same message. That there is someone above, watching us, taking care of us, but always challenging us as well." Van Horn paused to take a breath. "And that is, basically, the center of modern religious belief, with me and many humans across the galaxy. Namely, that all religions are the same in essence, so they all must obey the same God. They just have different ways of doing it."

They walked along, picking their way between trees in the forest for some time before Alexis spoke again. "So, that's all there is to it? 'Behave and don't kill?'" she asked, a bit bewildered.

Van Horn sighed again. "It's not that simple, no… But again, I should not be the one you should talk to about this. When a sufficiently-sized task force does get here to relieve us, I'll see if they have a pastor or reverend you can speak with."

Alexis gave her friend an odd look. "Are they like shaman?"

"Sort of. At least, they're the main religious leaders, so you could say they're like a shaman in that respect, though they don't usually do things the same was as Forbasa did."

Alexis nodded a bit. "I suppose…"

The screech of aerofighter engines cut off any further debate, and Alexis, van Horn, and all the other troopers of the Vanquishers and the 3rd Platoon dropped to the ground automatically, and the tanks and 'mechs around them halted. The natives from Kaytor, uncertain over what was going on, stopped in their own tracks as well, and muttering began to be heard from them.

"It's okay," van Horn spoke, bringing Alexis' heard around to see him standing up less than a few seconds after hitting the ground. "It's one of ours. They're off to attack the Wobbies on our tails."

Alexis sighed and she stood up even as the tanks in the lead began to roll again. She had to explain the sudden stop to those locals nearest to her, and it took several minutes for the information to move down the line and to get everyone moving again.

It's going to be a long day.

"It's gonna be a long day, Oscar," Ensign Rachael Pachinski observed as she walked alongside her wingmate towards the parking areas for the two fighters from the USS Chris Metzen waited in the pre-dawn hours. The pair of F-56 Stormchaser fighters were, like the Achilles-class Metzen, call ups from the National Reserve, as were the two pilots who now strode from their semi-permanent tents that had been set up next to the airfield. The Seabees had finished preparations for at least two fighters to be maintained as a ground-based element for bombing, as craft reentering atmosphere naturally couldn't carry high explosives on their exterior.

"Well, look at the bright side, Rachael," her friend and wingmate, Oscar Hayes, replied as they reached the first fighter, which belonged to the red-haired woman at his side. "At least this isn't like Tuskahara back in the day."

Pachinski groaned and rolled her eyes. "Please, don't remind me. I've spent many an hour in bars trying to have that memory removed via non-invasive liquid procedures."

Hayes laughed. "Well, Rachael, in any case, let's hope this doesn't turn out that way."

"Here here," Pachinski said and she held up her neurohelmet. Hayes mirrored it and they clacked the helmets together. "See you back here at base for debrief and cocktails."

Hayes laughed again at the old joke as he walked for his own fighter, which was parked a good sixty meters away to prevent both from being taken out by a lucky attack. Because of that, Pachinski took her time as she walked the last few meters to the immediate area of her fighter. While the few ground crew who had transferred from the Metzen finished their status checks on the delta-winged fighter craft, Pachinski did a walk around, visually inspecting her craft as critically as any of the technicians did. It was an age-old ritual that had proven its worth countless times since the advent of powered flight, and the ensign wouldn't dare skip a single part of it if she could help it.

After completing her circuit, Pachinski nodded to the lead tech, and received a nod back as she climbed up the small metal ladder to the 40-ton fighter's cockpit. Once there, she began the necessary tasks that one needed to do in order to pilot a modern space-capable fighter. The bulky flight suit she wore had to be plugged into its proper ports so that it would be able to inflate during high-G turns and keep the blood in Pachinski's head, where it belonged.

After that came the attachment of her neurohelmet into the battlecomputer. Unlike older Inner Sphere or even Clan models, Republic aerofighter neurohelmets were scarcely larger than the normal flight helmets worn by pilots in the late 20th century, owing to advanced technology and a lack of necessity for the more elaborate sensors needed for a battlemech's balance.

Still, it required a few moments of time for Pachinski to get everything properly seated, and also to seal up her flight suit to her helmet so that she could, theoretically, eject even in the blackness of space. Although their sortie today was supposed to be entirely in the atmosphere of Bowman's Planet, Pachinski took no risks, and so she made sure her suit was secure and had its emergency oxygen bottles attached to her boots.

Finally, after going through this routine, Pachinski looked over the left rim of her cockpit, and she saw the head tech standing where he was supposed to be. The tall man gave her a thumb up, which indicated that the crew was finished and no problems were found. She returned the gesture, which meant the same thing from her, and the man shot her a salute before scuttling off beyond the ensign's vision.

Time to get this bad boy rolling, Pachinski thought as she started flipping controls on in her cockpit. The internal batteries for the ship came on, and at a touch of a button, the cockpit's canopy slid forward and closed off the cramped compartment. Pachinski, who left her oxygen mask off until the "real flying" began, felt her ears pop slightly as the cabin pressurized a bit over nominal to test for leakage. The small gauge for pressure remained steady, and the 'idiot light' for that system burned a healthy green.

Pachinski took another few moments to warm up the ship's computers and radios, and she only had to blink before the craft synchronized its time and position with the Republic Battlenet. With that, she activated her Heads Up Display, and the holographic bowl that represented the full 360-degree sphere around her fighter materialized. Overlaid on it were the faint golden lines that delineated the different firing arcs for her fighter, and virtual windows popped up to show the status of the Stormchaser's weapons. Pachinski was gratified to see that the "Flashpoint III" ER Large Laser in each wing came online as fully charged, and that the Mk-51 LRM Ten-rack in the nose was fully loaded and operational.

All right then, Pachinski thought as she punched up the last sequence she needed to get the craft fully operational. Unlike conventional, atmospheric fighters, a fusion-powered aerospace fighter doesn't need a starter cart to get the engines moving. Such carts were still used, however, if a fighter was kept inside an enclosed area, like an underground hanger, while a similar system on ships drew power from the carrier's reactor to ignite the fusion torch within their fighters.

The two Stormchasers, however, were only parked in the open – a necessity given the relatively primitive airfield – and so they had kept their engines in a low power mode similar to that of a 'mech's engine. Now, with but a simple code that only Pachinski and the chief tech knew, the pilot told the engine to ramp up power to standby. Behind her, Pachinski could feel the ship's engine system rumble as power was built up.

Now, fully ready, she triggered her radio on. "Oscar, you strapped in yet?"

"Yes ma'am," Hayes responded. "I'm just waiting for you to get off that cute ass of yours."

Pachinski snorted into her radio. "Watch it, bub, unless you want to go to sleep tonight with your cajónes."

"Duly noted, Toast," Hayes replied, using Pachinski's callsign.

"Triply noted," came the male voice of the very temporary 'flight officer' for the airfield, who was really the USS Cheops' head pilot. "Now that that's all cleared up; Baker One, Baker Two, you both are cleared to taxi."

"Roger that, air boss," Pachinski replied with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Baker One is rolling." With that, she released the landing gear brakes and gave her throttle just the barest nudge. The power from her craft's engine edged over the threshold at which friction held the 40-ton fighter in place, and soon the small ship was rolling down the paved taxiways.

The rolling thunder of the two fighters moving down to the end of the air strip woke some of the natives in Shulana, though many stayed asleep as they had started to grow accustomed to the loud noises from the Republic's activities.

One person who wasn't, however, quite used to it was Senmar. He awoke with a start at the rumbling, and it took him a moment to remember where he was and what the noise meant. Damned things, can't they wait until daylight? He mentally grumbled and sat upright in the small, makeshift bed he had. Looking around the small room at the back of his mother's house, he noted that of the other two beds cramped into the tight quarters, only one was occupied.

Odd, Senmar mused. Kanu's here, but where's Pavlo? Although his older brother still was doing important translating jobs for the humans, he still tried to find time to visit and even sleep over with his family. The fact that he wasn't there now piqued Senmar's curiosity enough that he stood up a bit shakily and walked off to find his brother.

Moving out of the room and into the hall that connected it to the kitchen/dining room, Senmar noted the back door was open, and just beyond; a familiar profile stood watching the airfield to the south.

Walking up slowly, Senmar left the house and padded up to Pavlo, the cool air chilling his bare chest. "Pavlo?"

"Huh?" His brother replied with a small start. Then he smiled sheepishly for a brief second. "Hello, Senmar. Still not used to the noise, I see."

Senmar just grunted, and looked to the north, where he saw movement of lights and objects. "What's going on? Why are you out here? What are they doing?"

"You seem awfully curious for someone who just got up," Pavlo joked weakly.

"Maybe I don't like to be woken up without a good reason," Senmar grunted back. At that, Pavlo shook his head and sighed. "There was some more action to the east again. Things are… Not quite as well as our friends would have liked."

Senmar frowned. "Is Mikula okay?"

"He's fine," Pavlo replied as the first Stormchaser reached the western end of the runway and began to pivot. "It's Alexis and Earl who I'm worried about."

Senmar frowned a bit, not understanding through the haze of interrupted sleep. "I don't understand how you would know. Haven't you been here all night?"

"No, I haven't," Pavlo replied sadly. "I couldn't get to sleep, so I snuck out after you and Kanu went to bed and went to the command center to find out how the action went."

The sudden booming noise of the F-56's engines roaring to full power interrupted then, and they both fell silent to watch as the delta-winged craft screamed down the runway, lifting sluggishly into the air as it was fully laden with external ordinance. With a reverberation that made the ground itself shake even at a distance, the 40-ton craft finally lurched higher and higher, eventually moving off to the east.

"You know…" Senmar began after the second fighter went through the same routine. "I may not have been the most polite in my words to your friends before, but I wish them well now."

"Thanks Senmar," Pavlo said and gave his brother a weak smile. Then the smile faded along with the noise from the Republic fighters. "I just hope and pray they'll be safe."

An hour later, Pachinski checked her fighter's status and HUD one last time before triggering her radio. "Beautiful sunrise, ain't it Skippy?" She called to her wingmate.

"You got that right, Toast," Hayes replied. "But that don't change the fact that we got us a job to do."

"I know that, jackass," Pachinski replied as she pulled her fighter up and over to bank to the left so she could descend towards the fields below. "I was just tryin' to be a bit philosophical for a moment."

"Whatever you say, boss," Hayes replied as he pitched his craft to follow. Then the radio fell silent as both pilots concentrated on performing their maneuvers. The two Stormchasers flew downwards in a broad spiral that, when they were finally down to low level, gave them a westerly heading.

Just right to shoot those Wobbies in the ass, Pachinski thought as she toggled her radio to a new frequency. "This is Baker One to Oni One, please come in."

"Oni One here," Tanaka's voice came back over the radio. "Glad to hear your voice, Baker. Your over flight left us a bit jumpy."

Pachinski indulged in a quick chuckle before she keyed her mike again. "Well, no need to worry now. We're coming in from the east, and we could use an update on the sitrep."

"Uploading data now," Tanaka replied, and within a second, an LCD display in Pachinski's cockpit resolved from the standard load out manifest to a map of the local area, including the tags for friendly and hostile forces. The former were within a dark green field that indicated a forest, while the latter were in a relatively open area. Perfect.

"Thanks Oni One," Pachinski replied as she brought her fighter closer to the ground and boosted her speed. "We'll see if we can't give them a lead enema."

Adept III Gregory Jorgensen was angry. Angry at many things, at how the Clans had ripped his homeland asunder when he was a boy, at how he had to spend part of his life I refugee camps, at the general way in which life had treated him. But today, the hate was all about the 'infidels' that his unit now chased.

Well, it's not 'My' unit, he remembered. I'm just in it. Still, he was angry now at how the infidels had again managed to escape the righteous justice of the Hand of Blake, this time by pouncing on Wintaka's Level II from out of nowhere, and then pulling away before the Level III of 'mechs could catch them resting on their laurels.

And they took the dogs with them, as well. The thought had made him pause his 65-ton Catapult when the unit had passed by the now-empty village an hour ago, and only the pressing need to keep marching after the enemy had managed to keep him from taking out his anger on the empty buildings.

Not that I care about those filthy wretches specifically, Jorgensen mused as he kept his bird-legged 'mech in the loose formation with the rest of the Blakest unit. Just that they would have been a nice way to lure the heathens back to their deaths. That, and they look funny when you shoot them with a laser.

The dark musings that went through the Adept's head ended abruptly as a threat warning erupted on his HUD and screeched through the cockpit. Barely had he time to register this when his 'mech bucked as two bombs slammed into the back and detonated, their concentrated power ripping off armor and unbalancing the 'mech.

Even as the bird-legged design fell, Jorgensen heard the screech of aerofighter engines and the booms of more bombs detonating nearby. It was another thing he found time to be angry at.

Pachinski pulled up and out to the right from her level bombing attack, and she pushed her throttle as far as she dared while still carrying half her bomb load. The holographic HUD showed laser bolts and streams of autocannon fire racing past her fighter, but she didn't pay them too much attention as she put distance between herself and the Blakests.

Behind her, Hayes' own Stormchaser dropped half its bombs as well, striking a hapless Charger before he, too, pulled out to follow his wingmate. His fighter approached and fell into formation with Pachinski's own after the latter had slowed down a bit. "I think we got their attention, Toast," he said over the radio. "I think we shoulda dive bombed 'em instead."

Pachinski grunted as she hauled her fighter up and to the left this time. "Thought they'd be stupid. I guess I was wrong for once," she replied in a clipped tone as she felt the gees as her fighter soared up and over the hilly forest beneath.

"Remind me to file a complaint with the management," Hayes replied as jovially as he could, given his own g-forces. "I still got half my load, Toast, what do ya want to do?"

Pachinski remained silent as she contemplated their next action and at the same time leveled off her fighter. Unconsciously, she had pulled the craft up several hundred meters, and this sparked an idea within her brain. "Skippy, you still feel like dive bombing?"

"What?" Her wingmate sounded incredulous. "They know we're here now, Rachael, it'd be suicide."

"Which is why they won't expect it."

Although it had been anything but easy, given the design's notorious lack of hands or lower arms, Adept Jorgensen had managed to carefully get his Catapult standing again. Blake's Blood! Those damned bastards can't do anything without their air support at their beck and call!

"This is Precentor Harrison," the familiar voice of the Level III commander came in over the radio. "All units scatter. Designated AA 'mechs move to the outside, all others, make sure you're not within ninety meters of each other."

Jorgensen grunted and he set his older-model 'mech moving forward, away from his mates. They're level bombing to catch more of us in one pass, so by spreading out, they can only attack one at a time, he mentally reviewed as he checked the sky visually. Of course, that reduces our ability to concentrate return fire, but their level flight path means they'll have to fly over more of us to attack.

He was just thinking this when, off to his left and front, explosions erupted around the largest 'mech in the Level III, a 100-ton Vanquisher. Four fiery blossoms of death erupted all over the design in rapid succession, and another four quickly followed them. Again, the screech of a fighter could be heard, but almost all of the Blakests' weapons were pointed the wrong way; outwards in anticipation of another level bombing attack. Instead, the two fighters had approached from straight above, and now they roared outwards, challenged by only a few laser shots.

Not again! Jorgensen raged. How do they keep avoiding judgment!

Pachinski had again sent her fighter roaring along at treetop level, just barely avoiding the taller trees of the forest a she shot past the boundary with the plains. Again, her HUD showed Hayes' own Stormchaser moving in to the traditional trailing position. "Damn, Toast. If I ever doubt you again, feel free to serve my cajónes up at the mess hall."

Pachinski grinned inside her helmet as she pulled the craft around for another pass, this time to make an attack run with her fighter's mounted weapons. "I'll remember, Skippy. Now, you gonna talk or you gonna fly?"

The day passed on and pressed upon as the small procession of natives and war machines finally halted near sunset. The former were exhausted, while the latter's pilots needed their own breaks. Most especially, the battle armor of the Republic needed to have their power supplies replaced or recharged.

Thus, Sierra squad from the Vanquishers had leapt ahead of the main body of the procession during the waning daylight in order to locate a relatively safe area for the eclectic group to settle, if only for a few hours.

Alexis sighed as she dropped to the ground next to a halted Abrams tank. Although she had been helping to guide the Kaytorians along throughout the day – especially during the repeated bombing attacks against the Blakests that had made the area noisy – she now felt like having a few moments away from their suspicious glances and open stares, preferring instead the company of the humans.

She didn't have long to wait until one of the tank crew clambered down the side of the 70-ton behemoth. "Well, Miss Hurano," the lanky man started. "To what do we have the pleasure of you gracing our tank?"

Alexis tilted her head up just enough to smile wanly at the man. "I just wanted to sit by myself for a few moments."

"Ah, say no more," the man replied and waved a hand. "I'm just goin' for a stretch. Watch out for Stienke – he's our driver- restarting in case we're attacked. I don't want him runnin' ya over."

"Thank you, I will," Alexis replied, and the man nodded to her and walked off, leaving the gatón alone again, or alone as I can be sitting only a few dragnas from the nearest bunch of natives, or even Mobile Infantry, for that matter. Still, she was content to sit back and close her eyes, even for a few minutes.

The noise of people yelling and movement snapped Alexis upright and her eyes flipped open. She felt a brief moment of panic when she couldn't see anything, then she realized that night had fallen and that her eyes were taking a moment to adjust. Confused, Alexis checked her wristwatch and was surprised and chagrined to see that she had slept for two and a half hours.

The tank behind her rumbled, and Alexis quickly stood up and moved to the side so that she would be free of the treads. Looking around, she saw natives being herded together and organized by van Horn, Acryu, and a couple of militiamen from the town. The latter were recognizable, for they insisted in carrying around their swords, at least. They were calling for people to get ready to move out, and Alexis wondered why. Then with a flush of embarrassment, she remembered her helmet radio, and she turned it on.

"-En 'mechs moving up the valley. I guess not all of them were heavies after all," an unfamiliar voice spoke over the background noise of a fighter engine on full thrust.

"Oni One copies that Badger Five," Tanaka's voice answered back. "Thanks for the heads up. Now git back to strafing their asses and we'll get a move on."

"Roger, wilco, Oni One. Badger Five out." With that, the background noise ceased over the channel.

"Okay, anyone listening in on the common freq, I'll reiterate. We got us ten lights and fast mediums rollin' up our trail at speed. We need to get the non-combatants out of here now.

"So this is how it's going to be," Alexis saw Tanaka's Guillotine IIC striding with the other battlemechs of her lance towards the area where their trail led back down the hills. "Oni Lance will move and engage the Blakests at the mouth of this valley. All other forces will continue their escort of the refugees into the mountains."

"Captain, you sure that's wise?" Lieutenant Vickers called in. "Your lance isn't an even match against ten 'mechs. Even with Clan-tech, that's suicide."

"I appreciate the concern, Vanquisher One, but I don't plan on stayin' around once we engage. We're gonna hit and fade, and I'm willin' to bet that not all of those bastards have jump jets," Tanaka replied in a darkly amused tone. "The rest of y'all will just slow us down. Now git goin'!"

With that, Alexis saw the 'mechs of Oni Lance start their march towards the enemy, while the two lead Abrams began to roll off again to blaze the trail for the Kaytorians, who were even now lining up and beginning to move off after the first pair of tanks.

"Alexis!" The sudden shout from van Horn snapped the gatón out of her temporary freeze, and she rushed over to the human. What the Hell is wrong with me? She asked herself briefly, but then her thoughts cleared as she reached her friend.

"Nice to see you've rejoined the land of the living," van Horn commented dryly to Alexis. She blushed a bit at the mild rebuke, but she nodded. "What do you need me for?"

Van Horn pointed towards the departing tanks with his free left hand. "Get up front, and stay there. We need you to be able to keep these people from panicking."

Alexis gave him a look. "How do I do that?"

Van Horn shrugged, his suit mimicking the gesture. "I dunno. Just be yourself."

Alexis rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, you're such a help," she commented sarcastically and then turned to run off after the tanks.

Gods, I'm tired, the gatón thought, and her mind came up with another common saying amongst the Republic infantrymen.

I can rest when I'm dead.

Tanaka resisted the urge to turn her 'mech's spotlight on as she pushed it down through the woods. Last thing I need is to make myself more of a damn target at the moment, she thought as her 70-ton Guillotine IIC crashed through underbrush and bowled aside smaller trees. Checking her HUD, she saw that the other three 'mechs of Oni Lance had spread out in a skirmish line without being told, and she felt a brief swell of pride.

Then the sensors showed the first, intermittent contacts with 'mechs moving northwest and up the valley floor, and Tanaka frowned a bit. Damn, they're faster then those Airedales thought! "Oni Lance, it looks like we got company. Hit and fade, and try to keep a range advantage."

A chorus of replies echoed over the channel, and Tanaka slowly brought her 'mech to a halt in the middle of the path cut by the moving procession of tanks and native. Carefully, she sited her weapons at the edge of a bend in the path. "All right you zealous motherfuckers," she breathed, "come and get it."

As if responding to her challenge, the sensor signal of a 40-ton Cicada appeared through the trees, and then moved around the bend. The enemy MechWarrior apparently hadn't checked his own sensors, and he brought his charging 'mech to a sudden stop as he caught sight of Tanaka's Guillotine IIC.

Bad move, cocksucker, Tanaka thought savagely as she jerked her firing controls. A stream of charged particles from her ER PPC ripped the air asunder with light and thunder, and its azure fire ripped into the starboard side of the enemy 'mech. Then Tanaka's Large Pulse Lasers lanced out to rip tons of armor from the Cicada's left leg and chest.

The 40-ton 'mech writhed as it took a beating that, as a fast scout unit, it was never intended to receive. The particle stream ate through the armor and structure of the 'mech's right chest like a vibroblade slices flesh, ripping into and through the right side of the Cicada until it was only a bare skeleton holding up the vestigial right arm. Meanwhile, the pulse laser blasts easily melted or vaporized the armor over the left breast and leg, one stuttering pulse turning the lower leg actuator into a solid lump, while the other ripped apart structural braces within the enemy 'mech's chest.

The Blakest MechWarrior, though, managed to return fire, and he opened up with his Ultra autocannon, sending a seemingly unending stream of shells to rip armor off of the right and center torso of Tanaka's Guillotine IIC. He fired his medium lasers, as well, apparently in fright or panic, as they were well beyond their accurate range.

Despite the sweat pouring off of her body in rivulets, Tanaka grinned savagely as the weapons exchange had gone exceedingly in her favor. But then she saw more blips representing enemy 'mechs coming from the south, and the grin died.

Apparently, the Blakest pilot saw them too, and he pushed his battered 'mech forward, apparently encouraged by their impending arrival. Tanaka frowned at the action, and she just shook her head. Foolish boy, she thought as she concentrated solely on targeting her weapons. She took just long enough for the Blakest to get off the first shot, though this time, his aim suffered, and despite the long-winded blast from his autocannon, only about half the stream hit Tanaka's 'mech, ripping armor off of its right leg.

"That's your last shot," Tanaka spoke to no one in particular as she fired her particle cannon again. The roaring blue stream again hit, this time tearing into the Cicada's center torso, eating away all of the armor and then chipping away at the internal structure. A brief shudder in the enemy 'mech told of a damaged gyro housing, and Tanaka smirked as she fired a large pulse laser, sending the pulsing coherent light into the damaged left side of the 40-ton 'mech, ripping into and through the ultra autocannon, turning the sophisticated weapon into slag.

The side hit did even more, as the laser ate away the last structural supports, and the left side of the Cicada collapsed into itself, crushing the engine shielding to the XL engine. Then the plasma from the engine was released, and it blew the collapsed side back out again as molten metal and composites.

Even as the now lifeless 'mech collapsed to the ground, Tanaka turned her Guillotine IIC on its heel and began a run up the path. "All Onis, break contact, Charlie Sierra Delta, move ten by six Romeo Echo," the captain called as her 'mech rapidly passed eighty kilometers per hour.

"Oni Two copies, breaking contact," Stein called in first, though Tanaka heard the whine of a discharging Gauss Rifle over the radio. "Scratch one Jenner."

"Oni Four moving off. Got me a piece of a Phoenix Hawk, movin' up in the world." Carmike added in with lightness in his voice that bespoke his pleasure to fall back.

"Three here, cap'n" Myers called next. "I'm tryin' to break contact, but I got two bastards on my tail." The blaring alarms warning of weapons hits backed Myers' voice. "They're too fast for me to disengage."

Tanaka only thought for a split second before she yanked her controls and sent her 70-ton ride angling to the right, where Oni Three's beacon placed her. "Oni Two, Oni Four, continue moving up to site bravo. Me an' Two will join you post-haste."

"Roger that, skipper," Stein spoke first, and he was soon echoed by Carmike.

Tanaka didn't bother to respond as she pushed through the forest, bashing aside smaller trees with her 'mech's arms, and dodging around larger ones with a grace that belied the Guillotine's mass and bulk. The range counter next to Oni Three's icon dropped at a rate that made Tanaka wonder if she'd ever get there. Finally, though, after a few moments, she saw new icons pop up on her HUD, displaying the two enemy 'mechs that were harassing Myers. The closest one was a newer Red Shift, a Blakest-exclusive design, while the other was a Liao-made Snake.

No wonder she can't disengage, Tanaka thought as she angled to hit the Red Shift first. The smaller one's too fast, and the other has better jump capability. This thought seemed to trigger a niggling sensation in the back of her head, but Tanaka mentally shook it off as she finally broke through a copse of trees and managed to get a direct line of sight to the Red Shift.

Tanaka barely thought as she spitted the hapless 20-tonner onto her sights and fired. The large pulse lasers in the Guillotine's right arm reached out with their destructive power, though only one managed to impact the rear armor, the other impacting and exploding a tree. The laser that did hit, though, ripped into and through the left arm, blasting the small limb into scrap and slag before sending a bit more of its energy to rip into the rear left shoulder.

Barely had the pilot of the Red Shift begun to correct his now unstable 'mech before Tanaka added to his misery, firing her ER Medium Lasers and SRM rack. The SRMs, unfortunately, flew off to cut down some more trees, but the two medium lasers ripped into the rear armor on the Blakest scout 'mech, one sending megajoules of energy into the left torso and eating it away, while the other slammed into the center torso. The thin rear armor couldn't take the punishment, and both lasers turned the extra light, and extra large fusion engine shielding into slag metal, allowing the plasma to escape and send golden streamers of tortured flame out of the Red Shift's sides and into the night.

Even as the Blakest 'mech fell, Tanaka saw Myers send a hail of shells and lasers to slam into the already-battered Snake, the autocannon shells ripping into the only pristine armor on the 'mech over its right breast. One of the pulse medium lasers missed, but the other melted armor off of the left leg, furthering damage done to the limb from an earlier exchange.

None of this, however, could stop the Snake, and it unleashed a hailstorm of cluster munitions from its LBX-series autocannon. The spray of metal sandblasted armor off of several locations on Myers' 'mech, which was only added to as four streak-guided SRMs slammed into the Corvus's arms and left side.

Tanaka flipped on her external speakers and whistled to the Blakest Snake. "Yoo-hoo," she said lightly in a little girl voice. The sudden, strange sound made the Blakest MechWarrior jerk his 'mech around, and he paused as he saw the Guillotine IIC.

"Surprise, fucker!" Tanaka screamed at him as she fired all of her short-ranged weaponry again. The medium lasers sliced into the chest and left arm each, in both cases ripping past the paper-thin covering to melt chinks of internal structure and equipment. The laser hitting the left arm turned the hand actuator into molten slag, while the one that hit the chest ate straight through and into the recesses of the 'mech, though to Tanaka's brief disappointment, it didn't strike anything useful.

This was made up a bit, however, when Tanaka fired her SRMs, sending six missiles downrange, and in a fit of good luck, all six managed to lock on and hit. A cluster of explosions rippled over the Snake, chiseling armor from its head, right torso, and leg. But the worse damage was the two that slammed into the central torso, burrowing past structural members to detonate deep within.

The tiny explosions, it seemed, didn't stop, but grew larger and larger, as if the SRMs had simply planted a seed of fire within the Snake's chest. Then Tanaka realized that the fusion engine had been hit, and in the blink of an eye, the upper half of the 45-ton 'mech plumped out a bit like a balloon being inflated, and then promptly disappeared as the colorlessly-bright plasma evaporated the enemy 'mech from the waist up.

The shockwave sent trees falling in multiple directions, but both Republic 'mechs were safe. Tanaka blinked her eyes a few times to get the after image to fade a bit before she triggered her radio. "Oni Three, hope I'm not intruding?"

"Not at all, cap," Myers sounded relieved. "Damn good shot."

"Thanks, but save the butt-kissing for the post-action report," Tanaka replied wryly as she turned her 'mech towards their fallback position. "We need to move before the rest of them catch up."

"Uhm, Captain?" Myers sounded almost small. "What others?"

Tanaka blinked and was about to answer when she saw that, indeed, her HUD was clear of even long-ranged traces of enemy 'mechs. "Those aerojocks said there were ten of them-" She cut herself off as a thought hit her. "Oh, clusterfuck!"

Alexis felt as if her legs were made of lead, and the pack on her back and the weapon in her arms felt like incalculable burdens. Still, she pressed on, pushing forward, trying to stay ahead of the crowd behind her without looking like she was running in panic.

That would be terrible, she knew. Everyone would trample over everyone, people would head in all directions, but no one would really get anywhere. Alexis didn't have to have been told about such things from her human friends, for she had clear enough memories of the Blakest attack on Kuamket.

Her dark musings were suddenly interrupted as her helmet radio, still tuned to the general frequency, suddenly blared out. "This is Oni Two to Checker One! You gotta get hunkered down now!"

"What the Hell?" Alexis heard Peterson ask even as the tanks ahead and behind the procession of lupar rolled to a stop, causing the natives themselves to halt in surprise. Surprise because they can hear the noise of battle just as much as anyone, Alexis thought.

Then, again, the radio muted her conscious thoughts. "Checker, Vanquisher, and Red Dog forces. Four enemy 'mechs have bypassed our location, and they are chasing up the path as we speak! You gotta hide those civvies!"

"Fuck," Alexis heard the curse, and though she knew not who uttered it, she couldn't help but echo it in her mind. Damn! She thought as she spun around to face the locals. What to do, what to do? Her mind raced as she tried to think of some way to help. Then, while looking around, she noticed a ridge was only a hundred meters away. It was rocky enough that only a few sparse trees had claimed it, and there were cleared paths down the side where rock falls had brushed aside the few trees that did grow along the side of the ridge.

She keyed reached up with her left hand and keyed her radio. "This is Oscar One, there's a ridge to the left of our travel path, about one hundred meters or so away," she said, knowing that her human friends could make better use of the information with their training.

"Good eyes, Oscar One," Lieutenant Vickers's voice rolled over the frequency. "Peterson! Can you guys go hull-down up there?"

"Gimme a sec," Peterson's voice sounded almost distant, and then Alexis saw why as the hatch on the tank right in front of the first rank of natives opened up. Alexis recognized Peterson, despite his tanker's uniform of a helmet and thick coveralls. He looked for a second before finding the ridge. "Yeah…" He spoke almost unconsciously, his voice carried into the radio net by his helmet microphone. "It looks just about right. Yeah, we can."

"Good, here's the plan," Vickers began to speak fast as Peterson started clambering back into his Abrams. "Checker One, take your boys and hull-down up there. Red Dog, send your squad of rangers up there to cover 'em while your primes stay with the Vanquishers while we form a skirmish line below the ridge. Oscar One, you still there?"

"Yes sir," Alexis replied quickly.

"Good. You get them natives up there and behind Checker Lance. If things look bad, don't wait for an order, just get them to bug the hell out of here and don't come back."

Alexis gulped nervously at the implied actions. "Yes sir. Understood sir."

"Thattagirl," Vickers spoke even quicker now, and off to the south, the armored troops began to jump around as they formed up for battle. "Let the tankers go up first and carve y'all a path, that way they won't squish anyone. After that, you're on your own.

"Now, everyone get goin'!" This final command snapped Alexis back to the area around her, and she saw several lupar looking around nervously, especially at her and the jumping infantrymen. She quickly turned off her radio, cleared her throat, and spoke. "Attention everyone!" She yelled in Lupari, and the natives turned their heads to look at her. "Everyone stay still for a moment while the tanks begin to move off, then we follow them," she paused and turned to point upwards. "Up to that ridge. We'll take shelter behind it.

"Does everyone understand?" Alexis paused to see people nod silently, and she found herself reflecting the gesture. "Good! Now, wait for my word, then we go!"

Van Horn landed from a short jump and then sprinted forward of the forming skirmish line, moving out with the other scout armored troopers to provide advanced warning of the enemy. Moving as carefully as he could, the anthropologist-soldier sliced through the underbrush until he was about one hundred eighty meters out in front of the rest of the armored troopers. From the icons in his HUD, van Horn could see that he was the far-right anchor for the seven scout suited troopers, and he quickly looked for an appropriate hiding spot.

He found one easily enough when he noticed that two tees had grown closely together, and sprouting from their trunks were some sort of fern-like plant that apparently was some sort of climbing vine. Moving between the trees, van Horn found the leaves of the climbing plant excellent cover, and he kneeled down between the two tree trunks.

This is not what I had in mind when I wanted to come help these people, van Horn thought wryly as he checked the action on his heavy gyrojet gun. "The best laid plans of mice and men," buddy, another voice in his head chimed in. You can't expect the Wobbies to just lie down and die, did you?

Yes, damnit! Van Horn grunted as he switched his active probe suit on. Goddamned fuckers should just accept their fate and die.

Since when did humans willfully accept such a fate? The voice asked sneeringly.

Since when were the Wobbies human? Van Horn asked back as he primed his weapon.

Touché.

It was then that he saw the first telltale traces of a signature on his sensors. Van Horn felt a chill go up his spine as he read the range. Damn, so close! Bloody trees… He reluctantly turned off his active sensors then, deciding to wait for the enemy to approach before broadcasting his position to them.

Still, gotta broadcast to my friends. With that though, van Horn clicked his radio on and spoke softly, as if just a lower voice over the radio would lessen the chance that it would be detected. "This is Sierra Eight, I have intermittent contacts approximately two seven zero clicks south of my position. Going quiet."

"This is Sierra Seven," Private Stuger called in from her position to the left of van Horn. "I concur in readings and action."

"Good job, Eight, Seven," Corporal Connors replied over the squad frequency. "I'll appraise the Boss. Hold tight and wait for orders."

Van Horn and Stuger acknowledged the brief orders, and then the frequency went silent. Well, 'cept for the sound of six people breathing at once, van Horn thought. The soft chorus was strangely soothing, and if it hadn't been for the adrenalin pumping through his system, van Horn would have found it almost sleep-inducing.

Then the passive sensors in his helmet began to pick up active scans, and van Horn shook off the brief tangential thoughts. Checking the probe suite's computer database, the suit's main computer projected the ID tags for a Nexus and a Venom. Both designs were equipped with speed, jump jets, and enough lasers to slice apart a whole squad of battle armor in seconds, and van Horn gulped a bit in nervousness. Damnit Earl! He fairly yelled to himself. Get a grip. You've faced this crap before, you can do it again!

It was then, watching the two Blakest 'mechs march forward, that van Horn heard his radio locate and tie in a broad-spectrum transmission. "This is Adept Four Janus Torvald calling the infidels. You are outgunned and, despite my better judgment, my conscience dictates that I give you a chance to surrender."

Van horn felt his blood boil then, and he almost broke discipline in order to tell the Blakest off. Wait a minute, asshole! The small voice inside his head railed. That's just what the fuckers want from you!

Several seconds passed by, and van Horn was about to sigh in relief as he heard no one else even utter a word before a familiar voice rolled in. "You lying hypocritical godless heathen monkey-fucking whore-mongering spawn of an Amaris!" Vickers' voice rang over the frequency. "You want us? Come and get us!"

Van Horn frowned for a bit, wondering if Vickers had cracked under the strain. Then he saw that Vickers' transmission hadn't been coming from his location – provided by low-power radios that operated below most 'mechs' detection thresholds – but rather, from the ridgeline where the tanks of Checker Lance had set up. The good doctor was briefly puzzled, until he saw the two Blakest 'mechs turn towards the ridge and begin a fast climb up.

Van Horn smiled broadly within his helmet. Brilliant! Vickers routed his taunt through Peterson's tanks! The Blakests will walk into an ambush that they created for themselves! The irony was almost tangible, and van Horn tensed up as he saw the Nexus walk right past his position.

The Blakest 'mechs had gone about thirty meters past his position when Lieutenant Vickers' voice again came over the radio, though his HUD told van Horn that it was via the squad channel. "Sierra squad, illuminate them and get their attention, make a show, and then we'll double whammy 'em from behind."

Van Horn didn't bother to respond – no one in the squad did. Instead, he and the others rose almost as one and flipped their active probes onto full power mode. Within seconds, van Horn quickly saw that the Venom was factory-standard, while the Nexus was the newer NXS1-B model. Both dangerous, he thought as he crouched to jump. But the Venom is the worse of the pair. He noted that the other two 'mechs of the Blakest force had shown up now, as well, but he ignored them as he hit his jets and angled for the Venom.

The sudden sensor contacts and movement behind them made the various Blakest 'mechs pause for a second. Then they quickly turned around to face the new threat. Van Horn decided to not hesitate, and he fired his gyrojet gun at the apex of his jump, sending a miniature rocket to race for the 35-ton enemy 'mech.

The small flash of the rocket's detonation on the Venom's chest was joined by the actinic flash of a gauss slug impacting the canopy, and then by a laser rifle blast that managed to carve a superficial scar over the left breast. Van Horn realized then that the two closer troopers in Sierra squad had joined in, and he felt a brief surge of camaraderie.

Then the Venom turned fully, and two of its searing pulse lasers ripped into the night. Neither shot landed, though one came close enough that van Horn cut his jets and dropped to the ground rather abruptly. Groaning with the strain, he cut sideways at a run this time, firing another shot that raced for the enemy 'mech, missing this time, but getting the pilot's attention.

Just before the Blakest MechWarrior could get a bead on van Horn, however, the 'mech shuddered as missiles impacted its rear, the fiery orange blossoms backlighting the 'mech enough that Stuger could lay another gauss slug into the canopy, further shaking up the enemy MechWarrior enough that his laser blasts again missed anything of importance.

It was then that the enemy hesitated, trying to figure out which was the greater threat, the missiles to his rear, or the shots hitting just inches from his face? In that moment of hesitation, van Horn continued to dart further to his right, hoping to form up with the rest of Sierra squad.

Then, much to van Horn's surprise, the Venom turned and leapt into the air as the pilot triggered his jump jets. The bright flash of superheated air coming from the back of the 35-ton 'mech was enough to make van Horn wince a bit, despite his helmet's protective optics.

"Sierra squad, fall back now!" Connors called over the squad frequency, and van Horn checked his HUD for a split second to consult the projected beacons before he turned and jumped after the Blakest 'mech. Although his jump ability was only half of that of the Venom's, van Horn was more concerned with joining up with his squad than chasing the enemy 'mech. For now.

If she had felt tired before, Alexis truly felt like crawling under a rock and dying now. The push up the ridge had drained her small body's reserves, and from the looks of the lupar making their way past her position, they were just as tired as she.

It cannot be helped, Alexis thought as she stood on a rock near the crest of the ridge, urging people forward with her left hand. Behind her, she heard the rumbling engines of Checker Lance's Abrams tanks, and she knew that behind them, at least, was temporary safety. Yet she fought her instinct to run and hide, instead trying to show herself as unafraid in a hope that it would rub off on the lupar from Kaytor.

At least, I hope that's what it's doing, Alexis wondered, though she did see many of the Kaytorians straighten a bit and move faster as they passed her. Bah, it's probably because they don't want to be seen as inferior to a gatón, she mused. Even if that's it, I'll take it; anything to get them to safety quickly.

It was then that she heard movement behind her, and Alexis turned warily to see Acryu half sliding down the steep ridge face from where he had been directing people to sit on the other side of the crest. He came to a stop on the same large rock Alexis stood on and he took the few steps to her side. "Everything seems to be going well," he said quietly.

Alexis just nodded and turned to face the Kaytorian lupar who were still climbing up the ridge along the path. Although the path they took wasn't extremely steep – the Abrams tanks had, of course, taken a roundabout path so they could climb the ridge – but it was long, and the natives were all exhausted from their exodus from their town, created it. The only thing that had kept them going earlier in the day was the sounds of Republic aerospace fighters laying into the enemy behind them, and every time it happened, it had seemed to get closer and closer.

This has got to stop, Alexis realized. Nobody can keep pushing themselves like this, not even humans. We need to stop these marauding 'mechs or else no one is getting away from here. The dire thoughts made Alexis lower her ears in a mix of anger and fear, and her tail twitched about.

A spoken phrase from Acryu dragged Alexis back to the present, and she shook her head a bit to clear it. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get what you just said."

Acryu sighed then. "I said that maybe you should sit down and rest," he replied quietly. "You look worse than anyone from my town."

Alexis shook her head again, this time in slow reply. "No. I can't rest, not until everyone is safe."

Acryu grunted a bit and he looked down on the people coming up the ridge. "Well then, you should be glad that almost everyone is-" The sudden noise of battle made him pause, and both he and Alexis turned to the southeast to see flashes of light in the forest.

"Oh shit," Alexis breathed. Then she turned and hopped off the rock, calling to the lupar still making their way up the ridgeline. "Everyone, move it now! We're out of time!" She pushed her rifle around, letting the strap keep it from flying off as it came to a rest on her back. This freed her arms, which let her wave at the lupar even more hurriedly. "Come on!"

The noise of battle and Alexis' calls had the desired effect, and soon the lupar were almost running up the ridge, passing the tired gatón as she came to a slow stop along the recently created trail. Alexis bent over a bit and rested her hands on her knees, feeling the drain that the brief exertion had taken from her. Damn, I need some rest! Just a little bit! Her mind raged.

"Are you okay?" Again, Acryu had come up beside her, and Alexis turned her head to see him standing a few feet away. She slowly nodded her head. "I'm just smaller, so I'm a bit more tired," she said and weakly smiled. Then she made herself upright again and she turned towards the sounds of battle. "We don't have much time."

As if to emphasize this, the loud rushing of battlemech-scale jump jets could be heard, and the bright flares coming from the four enemy 'mechs could be seen leaping over the trees and coming closer towards the ridgeline.

At this, the lupar did finally break into a run. Unfortunately, it was panicked at the sight of the enemy coming closer, and the orderly line became a roiling crowd that pushed forward, heedless of anything in the way.

Alexis was slammed by several lupar as they rushed up the ridge, and she was knocked aside. She fell, hitting the sloped ground and rolled down several meters before finally coming to a stop. Though to her misfortune, the stop was made possible by her slamming into the trunk of a sapling.

The pain in her side made Alexis moan, but she quickly stood up and looked back the way she had come, worried about any rockslides she might have triggered. Fortunately, the ground was stable, and she began to clamber her way back up. Stay calm, Alexis, she told herself as she heard the sounds of battle coming closer. Rushing will only delay you.

Acryu was waiting for her when she regained the trail. "Are you all right?" He asked.

"I'm fine," Alexis replied a she once again gained stable purchase and looked around, seeing no one. "They all made it up?"

"I think so," Acryu said hurriedly. Then a laser flashed overhead, and he and Alexis ducked. "I think, perhaps, we should run for our lives."

"Don't think, do it!" Alexis yelled and shoved him. Acryu needed no further encouragement, and he turned and ran up the ridge. Alexis hurried after him, though the pain in her side peaked each time her left foot came down, and she slowed a bit. Although she cursed her aching side, the gatón kept pushing herself forward. Just a little further, she told herself.

Then Alexis heard a noise off to the side of the path. It was a small noise, but it held something that made her stop. Then, just above the noise of another missile volley being launched, she heard it again off to the right side of the path. It sounds like someone in pain, she thought, and she looked in the noise's direction.

Here the trail had passed along a finger of the main ridge, using the top of the small formation to gain access to the larger one, and off to either side of the trail the ground sloped down. Down where the noise was coming from was a small stand of several trees, and Alexis saw small, odd shapes at the bottom there.

Cursing, Alexis took only a second to consider her path before she started down the slope, half-sliding the whole way. She soon reached the stand of trees and the small shapes resolved into the forms of two lupar, one of who was unconscious.

The other was half lying down on the ground, reaching over to check on the status of the other. Then the lupar turned its head and Alexis aw that it was, in fact, a young woman. "Please help us," she half-begged. "We were pushed, we fell," her words came out clipped and strained, which Alexis figured came from the situation.

Grunting, Alexis moved over and kneeled next to the prone man on the ground. Gently pushing aside the female lupar's hands, Alexis then checked his vitals and felt along his neck carefully. No broken neck, good… Still breathing, heart rate is a bit high. She leaned over and laid an ear on the man's chest, and she listened to his heart for a moment. Strong beat. She sat up then and looked at the woman. "He's fine. Knocked out for a bit, though," she said and stood to move over to the other lupar. "Are you hurt?"

The woman looked down at her legs, and Alexis followed her gaze to see that both of the lupar's legs were swollen around the ankles. Next to them was a fairly hefty rock that showed signs of recently being moved, and Alexis realized that it must have fallen down after the pair at her feet and slammed into the woman's legs. "I don't think I can walk," the female lupar said in a small voice tinged with pain.

Alexis stood still at that as the situation hit her fully. I'm alone, and I've got two hurt people to get to safety… And I can't even carry one by myself! She reached up to rub her head then, and her hand slapped against her helmet.

Blinking a bit, Alexis suddenly realized that she had a radio. I must be very tired, she excused herself mentally as she triggered the radio and flipped the selector on it for one of the battle-armored platoons' frequencies.

All of a sudden, voices rang through her head. "The Venom is moving-" "Johnston's hit! I need someone to make pickup-" "Hit the fucker now!" The cacophony of voices was over the general frequency that the unit was using, and Alexis felt a ball of ice form in her stomach as she listened. How can I possibly make myself heard?

Just then, she heard another rush of jump jets, and Alexis looked up to see a large 'mech alight on the trail that the gatón had been on not a few minutes before. Gaping up at it, she felt a twinge of fear as she recognized the design from the books she had studied. Then she saw the 'mech turn to walk up the trail, and her training kicked in.

"Left flank! Hellspawn on the ridge on the left flank!" She called over the radio in English, yelling as loud as she could. The voices on the channel died a bit for a second to comprehend the new voice. Then "Checker One copies! Engaging!"

It was then that the flash of a gauss round slammed into the chest of the 'mech, the sound of its hypersonic passage and its impact reaching Alexis a split-second behind the image. The large 'mech shuddered and took a step back to balance itself, which let it take a second gauss slug to its left arm and remain standing.

Even as he fought gravity, the enemy MechWarrior returned fire, firing his two LRM racks and sending a score of the missiles downrange, the orange exhausts from the missiles lighting up the area around the small sub-ridge for a second. Alexis blinked against the brief glare, and she heard the explosions coming from the area of Checker Lance.

I hope everyone got behind the rocks like we told them to, Alexis thought, naturally worrying about shrapnel. Then she worried more about her life as she saw the Hellspawn hit its jets again, this time angling to its right and down the same slope that Alexis and the two hurt lupar were sitting on. The woman behind her whimpered again, and Alexis crouched down and brought her rifle up.

Not like it will be any real help, the gatón nervously thought as the medium 'mech landed only fifteen meters away. The hot backwash from the jets washed over the three natives, and Alexis felt her hair and fur ruffle up even as the vibrations from 45-tons of metal landing to the ground sent s shiver up her spine. Please don't see us, please don't see us.

Her silent prayers were not to be heard, it seemed, for the Hellspawn turned and aimed its right arm at the trio of natives. Alexis felt her stomach flip over repeatedly as she saw the barrel of the arm's medium pulse laser swing in line with her position. No! She turned and grabbed the shoulder of the female lupar, who was staring in frozen fear at the war machine. "Go! Get out of here!"

The she-wolf turned and gave Alexis a stricken look. "I can't walk!"

"Then crawl!" Alexis said and she shoved the lupar a bit before interposing herself between the unconscious man on the ground and the Hellspawn's laser barrel. Not like my body will stop anything, she knew, but Alexis felt she had to do it anyway.

Her movement did not go unnoticed by the Blakest MechWarrior. "Well well well, what's this? A kitty with a rifle?" He spoke over his external speakers.

Alexis brought her rifle up and aimed it at the canopy of the 'mech, her fear fading from her mind as the Wobbie's arrogance piqued her anger. "Why don't you come out and see for yourself up close and personal!" She almost screamed at the 'mech.

"Well, it looks like I own Fritz a steak," the voice sneered out. "Those fools are using your kind. Pity for you, though." With that, Alexis saw the arm twitch a bit more into line with her position, and she tensed.

Then from off to the right, a brilliant cerulean beam screamed in, slamming into the head of the Hellspawn. In a period longer than a split second, but too short to count, Alexis saw the searing particle stream cut into and through the 'mech's head as if it wasn't there, and when the light faded, it wasn't just an illusion; the head was missing entirely.

Without the controls from the cockpit, the 45-ton 'mech fell forward and slammed into the ground with a great noise. Alexis tried to blink her eyes clear, and she turned to the right to see a dark shape running down another finger of the main ridge three hundred meters away. Then, as she watched, two more crested the same finger and a fourth hurled through the air towards Checker Lance's position. She didn't fear, however, because the next thing she heard over her radio set was heartening and familiar.

"Yeeeeeeeee-Haaaaaaawwwww!"

Van Horn jumped again, landing closer up the ridge's slope, and he fired the last round in his gun's second clip, sending the miniature rocket to impact no the back of the Nexus. The Blakest 'mech, like its fellows, again ignored the infantry firing at it and instead jumped up slope even further, heading for the tanks and the civilians behind them.

The infantry skirmish line had taken its toll, and one of the Nexus' arms hung limply at its side, more memory than metal, and the other two 'mechs within view – the Venom and a fearsome 55-ton Wraith – also had pockmarks from laser and missile impacts.

It's not enough though, van Horn thought as he jumped through mid-air again, splitting his attention between his jump and changing the clip in his heavy gyrojet gun. The latter he completed just in time to avoid slamming into a nasty rock outcropping, and instead he juiced his jets a bit more until he could land on top of it.

Off to his right, van Horn saw the last salvo of missiles streak up from the ragged line of Mobile Infantry to tear into the backs of the Venom and Wraith, wreathing both in explosions that tore more armor off their backs. However, the Blakest MechWarriors, displaying their characteristic determination, made their last jump to reach the top of the ridge, where, van Horn knew, they could engage the tanks where the Abrams' gauss rifles would be nearly impossible to aim quickly.

Before this could happen, however, van horn heard a yell come over the common frequency. "Yeeeeee-haaaaawww!" Pausing in a brief bout of confusion, van Horn was in the perfect spot to see the azure beams of particle cannons reach up and tear into the battered Blakest 'mechs.

The Venom took two in the chest, both eating through already weakened armor that now gave way to the awesome force assaulting it. The entire chest of the 'mech seemed to cave in for a moment before the Venom's engine blew, tearing the 35-ton 'mech in half and sending debris to crash to the ground.

The Wraith didn't fare much better, as a rather large and impressive-looking 'mech jumped to land almost next to it and immediately let loose with a hail of energy from paired particle cannons, lasers, and missiles that decimated the Blakest 'mech. Then coming up from behind the ridge, two large streams of LRMs plowed into the 55-ton 'mech, wreathing it in a cloud of explosions.

The tortured 'mech couldn't take much more, and the final straw was a gauss slug from one of the Abrams tanks that tore through the weakened chest armor and ripped into the gyro housing of the enemy 'mech. With a shudder, the Wraith collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut, falling backwards to slide down the ridge's slope a bit.

The only Blakest 'mech untouched by the incoming fire was the Nexus, which was still partially covered by the ridge's crest. A pair of particle cannon shots lanced up at it, but they both went high, saving the light 'mech from immediate death. The MechWarrior inside decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and he turned his 'mech on a dime and hit his jump jets. Flying through the air, the Nexus landed with a thud further down the ridge.

Unfortunately for the Wobbie, he had forgotten about the Mobile Infantry. The Vanquishers and the contingent from the 3rd platoon ripped into the thinly armored 'mech with a vengeance, and lasers and bullets and gyrojet rounds poured at the hapless 'mech, seeking out patched of ruined armor to exploit.

Van Horn added to this misery, and he sent a rocket that flew straight into the 'mech's canopy, detonating and sending the pilot inside into a fearful jerk. This was a poor choice for the MechWarrior, however, as the jerk translated into his neurohelmet and his 'mech tried to mimic the move. Instead, however, the 25-ton 'mech simply fell backwards and slammed into the ground.

Taking advantage of this, van Horn and the other infantry leapt into the air, and in seconds, they descended on the last Blakest 'mech in a frenzy of armor ripping and equipment bashing. When it was over, the anthropologist-soldier was standing amidst a pile of scrap along with twenty other armored troopers, each apparently pausing in confusion at the sudden end to the battle.

Naturally, Vickers would have none of this. "Everyone stop sitting on your ass and spread out!" The lieutenant hollered. "Whiskey Lance is covering us, so post battle cleanup, now!"