Exford Execution
Summary: A Jade Falcon pilot and his war diary writes of bitter engagements on the jungle world of New Exford. Rated T, oneshot, complete.
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Somewhere on New Exford.
Cohanua Island,
Cohanua Chain.
Dear Diary,
Pain surged through the young man's head as his neurohelmet screamed in protest, the feedback from the destroyed 40-millimeter Ultra autocannon Class 5 once mounted in the Hellbringer's arm. Now the useless appendage flopped to the ground, severed at the elbow where double PPC bolts had eaten away at the armour and destroyed the myomer bundles which attached the arm to its' shoulder.
Mechwarrior Baker Pryde pulled himself upright, coming face to face with the smoking barrel of a Kell Hound Hatamoto-Chi's PPC. The Combine Mech was one of the rare few which had found its' way into mercenary hands, as House Kurita generally didn't tolerate 'privateers'.
The PPC blasted at point-blank range into Baker's Mech, the third Mech of the Second Star, Second Trinary of the much-maligned Falcon Guards. Luckily, the bolt of blue struck the center torso of the Hellbringer, missing the cockpit windows by a hair.
A single, hammering thought roared in Baker's mind. I'll die if I stay here. Get up, get up, get up…
Today I had my closest brush with death yet. It is the ninth day since I got here.
He got up. Heaving on the joysticks, Baker launched a salvo of SSRMs, his one remaining Ultra autocannon and four ER Medium lasers. The barrage swept the Hatamoto-Chi off its' feet, landing on its' backside on the jungle floor.
Face blank and emotionless, Baker stomped on the stomach of the Hatamoto-Chi, destroying the gyro. As the pilot ejected, Baker blasted at the ejection pod with his lasers. The pod skewed off track and slammed into a tree, vanishing in a blaze of fire.
"All units, initiate tactical withdrawal on my mark. The stravags are overwhelming us," came the defeated voice of Star Commander Markus Hazen, the sound of laser fire coming in over the comm.
He looked around him. The Star Commander's Warhawk was holding off the enemy, the four PPCs mounted on its' arms demolishing a hapless Assassin. Of his three other starmates, Bill Pryde, who was his sibkin, had gone down under a barrage of laser fire, his Stormcrow suffering a gyro hit. Mechwarrior Blaine Malthus's Adder was running around shooting off legs with the two 100mm LBX-AC-10 Scattershot mounted on the left and right arms.
The Kell Hounds are breaking through, but we can still hold them…for a while.
The Star's fourth member, Mechwarrior David Chistu, swore on the comm as four Pack Hunters burst out of the undergrowth, closely followed by a lance of three Arctic Wolfs and a Clint. Chistu's Gargoyle was bathed in electrical fire as three PPCs slammed into its' ugly, grinning head.
Baker moved to help his starmate, but apparently David Chistu could support himself. Several medium lasers lanced outwards from the huge 80-ton Mech, slicing into the lead Pack Hunter. The loud crack! crack! of double autocannons firing simultaneously rang in his ears, and the Pack Hunter fell, to rise again no more.
Baker's own autocannons and medium lasers cut into the second Pack Hunter, now weaving its' way around huge trees supported by giant buttresses. His SSRMs slammed into the agile Mech as it appeared from behind a tree stump, and the Mech fell to the ground, its' PPC firing off into the distance.
But now we have to withdraw. One wonders whether he will survive the next five minutes. Withdrawals are like that, they make you fear.
"Withdraw in…three…two…one…mark!"
Baker fired a last salvo, crippling the Clint and cutting off the right arm. The Mech fell to the ground, writhing in the characteristic throes of a Mech when the pilot is wounded.
The Gargoyle blasted an Arctic Wolf apart as hundreds of SRMs swarmed the retreating Mechs, the explosive rockets tearing off huge chunks of armour off Markus Hazen's Warhawk.
We made it to the ridge, halfway to the base camp. PPCs and lasers harry our retreat. The Kell Hound surats worry us with their Exiled Wolf Clan abominations, destroying Blaine Malthus's Mech. May he rest forever in Turkina's arms.
Blaine Malthus's Adder fired its' autocannons twice more, holding off the Kell Hounds while the Jade Falcons retreated. A Pack Hunter collapsed, huge tongues of flame bursting out of jagged craters in its internal systems where the LBX 'shotgun' rounds had penetrated. Seconds later, a flurry of SRMs ravaged the Adder.
Two Arctic Wolves emptied their missile racks into the Adder, and the Mech fell, the arms, legs and body parts fragmenting apart in a gigantic fireball. No ejection pod made its' way out of the inferno.
I, Baker Pryde, am I to die on this Turkina-forsaken planet at the hands of freebirth stravag and Clan Wolf-in-Exile abominations?
The Warhawk tore a Pack Hunter into bits with four PPC shots, flaming pieces of the Kell Hound Mech lighting up the sky. Then, PPC fire and another SRM salvo sheared off the Clan war machine's arm at the shoulder, as yet another lance of Mechs appeared from behind. Baker glanced at his screens.
A JagerMech, two Bushwackers and an Uziel stepped forward. From the JagerMech, Ultra autocannon fire peppered Baker's Hellbringer, destroying the shoulder-mounted SSRM pod. Baker moaned in pain. The Bushwackers split up and lanced Star Commander Hazen's Mech with ruby fire and rotary autocannons. The Uziel smashed its PPCs into Chistu's Gargoyle.
Baker triggered his own Ultra autocannon and his ER medium lasers. Firing them as fast as they could cycle, he ripped at the JagerMech, knowing the end was near. Chistu's Gargoyle chopped off the Uziel's head with an alpha-strike, the LBX rounds tearing holes into the Mech's armour and the following medium lasers boiling the pilot within.
Then SRMs from the two remaining Arctic Wolfs broke through the Gargoyle's thick armour, and David Chistu fell. Only Baker and Hazen were alive.
It is now only I and the Star Commander. Together, we face at least a demi-Star of Mechs.
Suddenly, a warning alarm sounded in Baker's cockpit. A hailstorm of SRM missiles smashed the armour on his center torso, and the heads-up display flashed and blinkered from a laser hit to the sensitive equipment within the Mech's body. The Arctic Wolfs and the Bushwacker were harrying at his side while the JagerMech tore at him. He felt a wave of cool air wash into his cockpit, signifying a breach in the Hellbringer's cockpit bulkheads.
They are concentrating fire on me, knowing that Star Commander Hazen has only two PPCs left. I know my end is near. Turkina…
As Baker charged and triggered all his weapons, bringing a fresh wave of heat into the cockpit, he completed the ROM diary.
…bless my soul.
The charging Hellbringer brought down a limping Arctic Wolf, its' autocannons savaging the hybrid Mech's body and the lasers completing the destruction. The JagerMech fired a steady stream of autocannon shells at the Jade Falcon Hellbringer, and the Mech suddenly jerked back – the way a Mech jerks when the pilot is hit. Like a dead beast the Mech slowly fell to the ground. The cockpit was almost fragmented. The endo-steel that made up the head was stained crimson red.
Major Carl Jenkins let his eyes travel over the hellish scene. The remnants of five Clan Jade Falcon Mechs lay, in twisted rubble piles, next to the blackened, ruined hulks of at least eight 'Sphere Mechs – two thirds of Jenkins' command. The sole lance that was left was pitiful, just two Bushwackers, his own JagerMech and the single Arctic Wolf that had survived.
Soon, the forests of New Exford would cover the smoldering hulks, the dead metallic titans. The grass would cover, the trees grow and obliterate, and the Clanners' heroic fight would soon be forgotten by all except those who had participated in it.
He climbed over the torn girders that was the remnants of the Hellbringer. He searched the cockpit for intelligence, trying to ignore the bloodstains. Jenkins reminded himself that the Graves Registration Unit had already removed the mass of meat that was the body of the Jade Falcon Mechwarrior.
He pressed a button on the Mech's mangled 'black box', the computer system that kept track of all sensor feeds during combat, so that High Command could figure out what the pilot had been doing when the Mech was creamed.
Miraculously, a ROM diskette popped out of the drive. Carl Jenkins placed the disk in his portable ROM Player, and pushed the play button. It was a voice-activated log-ROM, and for a moment static masked everything. Then the crack! of Ultra autocannon filled his ears.
Dear Diary,
Today I had my closest brush with death yet. It is the ninth day since I got here. The Kell Hounds are breaking through, but we can still hold them…for a while. But now we have to withdraw. One wonders whether he will survive the next five minutes. Withdrawals are like that, they make you fear. We made it to the ridge, halfway to the base camp. PPCs and lasers harry our retreat. The Kell Hound surats worry us with their Exiled Wolf Clan abominations, destroying Blaine Malthus's Mech. May he rest forever in Turkina's arms.
I, Baker Pryde, am I to die on this Turkina-forsaken planet at the hands of freebirth stravag and Clan Wolf-in-Exile abominations? It is now only I and the Star Commander. Together, we face at least a demi-Star of Mechs. They are concentrating fire on me, knowing that Star Commander Hazen has only two PPCs left. I know my end is near.
Turkina, bless my soul.
Tears blurred Jenkin's vision, tears for the man who had once been and now was not. The man he had killed.
"A terrible business this," said Subaltern Daniel Jacobs, his Executive Officer. "And soon it will be but a drop in the oceans of Time."
"No," said Carl, dashing a cuff across his eyes. "This battle will be remembered…"
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