CHAPTER 4

Pummelo, Outworlds Alliance,
August 26, 3074

Sam had run this scenario in the simulator before: a well-orchestrated group engagement turning everybody-for-himself desperate fight after communication breakdown. She always pulled it off; just use the old adage: when in doubt, shoot. But this one was nothing like the simulator. Her radar was dark. Not even her lance mates appeared in her radar. Energy and ballistic shots came from all directions, and she wasn't even sure that they were all enemy's fire, or mixed with her own lance mates'.

"Sergeant! Sergeant Mogami!" she toggled her frequency toggle every which way. Never mind calling her CO by her name and rank. It was not the time to be discreet. "Sergeant! It's pitch black here! Radar is dead! Need to regroup quick or these animals will eat us alive!"

Her sergeant didn't respond, instead two humanoid shadows came toward her directions. By the time she realized they were not her lance mates, it was too late. Missiles charged her from opposite directions, and despite her best effort to dodge them, they ravaged her Cicada like vengeful killer drones. Explosions tore through slabs of armor, and her right-side lasers turned dark on the console, even though the housing was still attached to the arm.

"Sergeant! Clover! Alex! Anybody!" Sam desperately turned her mech around. Another set of missiles flogged her from behind, but this time she managed to evade all but one, shredding her thin rear armor on the left torso. She traced the source of the missiles, a Javelin, lobbing missiles from a covered dugout. She didn't need her computer's IFF to know it was a Javelin. She knew the mech by heart, since she piloted it before switching to the Cicada. She aimed her giant cannon at the 30-ton mech then fired a long continuous stream of charged particles. The azure beam blew half of the Javelin's left torso, breaching the arm by the shoulder. The Javelin twisted madly, teetering on its heels before slumping to the ground on its knees.

Sam aimed her remaining lasers but another shadow loomed from her right flank. She swung right to engage the new threat head on, and grin devilishly when she recognized the new threat as another Javelin. She fired her lasers, finding home on the enemy's center torso. The Javelin pumped out its missiles, but Sam was familiar with the light mech's performance. She bobbed and weaved under the stream of warheads, then fired her Heavy PPC as soon as it was ready, aiming at 2 red blemishes on the Javelin's torso. The Javelin keeled over as several heat sinks exploded, spreading fire throughout the light mech's upper body.

Unfortunately firing her big weapon in quick succession put the Cicada in a heat trouble. The myomers started to fail and the speedy mech turned sluggish. Worst yet, everything came in the least opportune moment as a large mech – at least 50-percent larger than the Cicada – loomed over the 40-tonner. Sam had not seen it before. She doubted that, even if her IFF worked perfectly, her computer would recognize the mech. As it got closer, two long cannons appeared on its shoulder, and Sam knew trouble when she saw them.

Sam rerouted all power to the myomer and pushed the throttle as far as she could, but two energy lances carved a deep gash on the Cicada's left leg. Half of the myomer bundles were fried, and black smoke wafted from the crater. Sam looked in horror as the big mech's arms flashed, spitting high-explosive rounds with depleted-uranium jacket. Half the cannon rounds ground the armor on the legs, tearing up the already overheated myomer underneath. All kinds of klaxons and sirens erupted in her ears. She turned her mech as hard as she could, but the remaining bundles snapped from the structures. The Cicada buckled and careened to the ground. Despite Sam's best effort to get her mech back up, it wouldn't respond. The damage was just too severe.

Defeated, Sam looked at the large mech, waiting for that great white ball to take her to the next dimension. But it never came. Instead the mech turned around, and two Pegasus hover tank arrived. Armed thugs spilled out of their guts and swarmed the Cicada. They broke the plexiglass and pulled Sam out of the cockpit. They stripped her neurohelmet and shoes, bound her wrists and ankles, and dragged her toward one of the Pegasus.

Clover winced as her ammo tracker blinked, telling her that she had only one more round to shoot. With only one 5-pack LRM to go, she had to rely the rest of the fight on her Medium Pulse laser. It was doable, as the Osiris she had been fighting was in pretty bad shape, losing 2 Medium lasers and running out of missiles. But it still had 3 lasers operational.

She weighed in her options. She could turn and retreat. With comm system down, she didn't know if her lance mates were still alive. But if they were, she would leave her lance mates behind, something that would not look good in her dossier. Besides she wouldn't go very far since the Osiris was just as fast as her Assassin if not faster. She could stay in the fight, but without her missiles she was outgunned. Her 10-ton advantage over the Osiris would not last long. And even if she managed to kill the Osiris, God knew how many more of these hostiles were there waiting in the concealed dugout.

In the end, she was a warrior. A mechwarrior, the most prestige of warrior known to man. There was no justification for a mechwarrior running away from battle.

"Eat this!" Clover fired her missiles. At 300 meters away, the missiles dashed in a straight line. The Osiris' empty launcher disintegrated in a cloud of smoke. The 30-ton mech swayed. Clover pressed advantage, spraying her pulse lasers at the reeling Osiris. Armor slabs sagged, and the Osiris' knees buckled.

Clover brought her mech about in a tight turn but the Osiris scored two lucky strikes on her missile box. Fortunately for her the launcher was empty, and the loss of her long-range weapon didn't affect her in any way. The Osiris shot another round of laser, but Clover recoiled, missing the laser bolt by half a meter. The Osiris blasted to the air while firing its machine guns, peppering the Assassin with 50-cal bullets in vain hope to at least weaken the armor. Yet they just bounced off the Assassin's armor, leaving nothing more than divots.

Clover banked right and sprayed her lasers at the Osiris' underbelly as the light mech glided away. Three bolts eviscerated the lightly-armored underside of the Osiris. Sparks burst and singed the ammunition bins for the machine guns. The light mech engulfed in fire, and crumbled into its funeral pyre when it touched the ground.

Clover didn't have a chance to take a deep breath. The towering flame from the Osiris revealed the location of another mech, a hulking metal beast with two long cannons on its shoulder and multi-barreled autocannons on its arms. She had never seen it before, but she didn't have time to find out. The autocannons burst, filling the gap between them with yellow tracers. Clover yelped as explosions rattled the cockpit. The ballistics strafed the torso, dangerously close to the cockpit, and whether it was a well-placed salvo or totally coincidence, she couldn't tell.

Mustering all energy she knew remained, Clover paced her mech in a circle, trying to get the large mech's blind spot. Her laser cannon flashed without relent, spitting bolts after bolts whenever possible. The large mech's right armor turned completely red. The large mech twisted and pivoted wildly but Clover maintained her edge, using the Assassin's speed and agility to stay within the mech's blind spot.

But the large mech still had one ace up its sleeve. It suddenly twisted and pivoted to the other direction. Clover overshot herself. She yanked the joystick hard but it was too late. The mech's lasers burnt a layer of armor on her waist. Acrid smoke seeped into the cockpit, and Clover knew she got critical hit. She did her best to keep the mech at bay, but it was not enough. The large mech's lasers evaporated the remaining armor on the waist, giving way to the autoannon rounds a mere second later. The high-explosive rounds crushed the gyro, and suddenly Clover found her mech unresponsive. The Assassin staggered then tumbled backward in a loud crash.

Lying on her command couch looking at the dark sky, Clover expected to see the large mech's feet raised high up above her head, or the barrel of a gun. But it didn't happen. Instead a swarm of armed soldiers came and hammered the canopy glass with the butts of their rifles. They grabbed her and pulled her out of the cockpit, removed her neurohelmet and put a bag over her head, bound her, and escorted her to their APC.

Alex didn't understand the decision behind using armor assets to fight battlemech, especially one with Plasma Rifle. Tanks and panzers and other fighting vehicles just exploded left and right. She brought her Clint away from the second burning SRM carrier she burned, and set her crosshair on a Goblin tank half a click on her left. The locking system failed, but she could do without. It was just like in the shooting range.

But she was worried that, while she got the easy marks, her lance mates might take the brunt of the enemy's force.

"Sarge! Come in Sarge!" she tried to establish comlink with the rest of the lance. "Sam! Clover! Come in! We need to regroup!"

The Goblin fired its laser, turning the Clint's shoulder guard into globules of molten armor. Alex deftly turned to the other direction and fired her Plasma weapon. White-hot superheated plastic arced in the air and stabbed the Goblin in the left hull. The entire armor plating on the left side turned to smelter as black smoke blew from several holes. Alex would love to watch the tank crews choke on the black oily smoke, but she had no time for amusement. Her lance mates needed her. So she fired her lasers on the staggering tank, liquefying more armor and hull structures, then sank another plasma bolt into the scarred hull. Tongues of fire blasted from every holes. The Goblin kept rolling for a few dozen meters, then came to a complete halt. Three internal explosions tore the tank apart, until what was left was a heap of burning structures.

Just when Alex thought she could search for her lance mates, a big mech kicked the burning carcass of the Goblin and charged the Clint head on. The torso was twice as wide as the lanky Clint, and the cannons nested on its shoulders were almost as thick as the Clint's upper arm.

"Sarge! Sam! Clover! I'm in deep shit!" Alex broke into a zigzag sprint. "Big bad bogey on my six! Need immediate support! Guys, where the hell is everybody?!"

Alex's comset spat out garble as response. The big bad mech fired its laser cannons on its shoulders. One bolt missed the cockpit by a wide margin, but the other burnt half a ton of armor on the chest. Alex winced as she watched her metal carapace turned into sagging smelter, dangerously exposing the structure and machinery beneath. She raised her arm to fire her Plasma Rifle but the big mech peppered her with cannon rounds. She gasped as armor-piercing shells ricocheted all over the Clint's body. The front armor suffered the most. Shrapnels sprayed into the air like geyser. She instinctively twisted left to protect her damaged torso, but groaned as the cannon rounds shredded the armor on her right arm.

Alex knew she was losing her primary weapon. That last shot virtually wiped out her right arm armor. Any shot on the arm would take the weapon out. She had to make the most of it, and she had to do it quick. She raised her arm and fired her Plasma Rifle. The big mech's chest glowed in orange glory as superheated plasma cored the center torso, digging a deep trench across its chest. A wave of heat splashed into the cockpit, forcing Alex to gasp. Warning sign blared, telling her the impending shut down if she continued her pace. But Alex overrode the shut down sequence and fired her lasers. The big mech staggered, spreading its arms to keep standing.

As the big bad mech struggled to keep control, Alex slid behind some rock formation to take cover. The big mech opened fire at her position, but she kept her head down. Armor piercing rounds whizzed above her cockpit and rock shrapnel scourged the Clint from every direction, but they just put dents on the Clint's jagged-edged armor platings.

But Alex underestimated the resourcefulness of the big mech. As she weathered the storm, waiting for her unidentified enemy to shoot itself out, the mech ravaged the base of the rock formation. Tons of solid rock crumbled on top of the Clint. Alex jumped and broke into a sprint, but a large boulder fell on its back and pushed the mech down. The Clint stumbled, face flat on the ground. Alex's slinky body was thrown forward, and if not because of the shoulder harness, she would've crashed onto the console.

The world spun around Alex's head for a while, and when she regained her senses, troops clawed their way in and grabbed her cooling vest. She tried to fight them but they quickly overwhelmed her. They pulled her out of her mech and bound her. Then they dragged her toward another Goblin and put a bag on her head. The last thing Clover saw before everything went dark was the big mech standing in the distance, training its entire arsenal at the Clint's midsection, at point blank range.

After the last mech fell, things quieted down. Several armored fighting vehicles congregated around the big lead mech, a Roughneck, a 65-ton bruiser common to Solaris mechjocks but rarely seen outside the arenas. Tanks and APCs parked in front of the decrepit-looking mech. Armed troops dragged the 3 captured mechwarriors, naked barring their cooling vests and undies, and forced them to kneel in front of the Roughneck, like fallen soldiers forced to submit to their conqueror.

The canopy of the Roughneck popped open and a man of medium size climbed down. The visor of his neurohelmet was fogged. He opened his neurohelmet, revealing a pair of sharp eyes and squared jaw. He paced haughtily in front of the captured mechwarriors, exerting his superiority, before looking at them with total contempt.

"Where is the location of your main army?" his monotone voice sounded like a machine.

Sam, Alex, and Clover looked at each other, but didn't say a word.

"Your nation had been defeated," the man growled with a little more vigor. "Your army, besieged. Your lives are in my hand. I have the power to kill you or to keep you alive. Tell me the location of your main army, so you don't have to beg me to kill you!"

The three mechwarriors kept quiet and just gave him defiant looks.

"Take them away!" the man roared. "Use any means to make them regret that they don't talk when I ask them to talk!"

The troops put bags over the mechwarriors' heads and hauled them away toward an APC. They shoved them inside, then drove off into the haze.