CHOOSERS OF THE SLAIN

A Battletech Short Story

By Sentinel 28A

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Damn, it's been six months since I updated this. Real life intruded, unfortunately, and between work, getting ready for convention season (which included writing two short stories for reviews by professional authors), and maybe finding a publisher for my real novels, it was a pretty busy spring. Not helping was the fact that, other than those two shorts, I really didn't feel much like writing anything. But, once more, thanks to reading other peoples' stories (like Rogue's and Kat's), I started getting the itch again. After a three-hour The Pacific marathon—again—here we are. I'm going to try and finish this story before the end of summer…no promises though…

REVIEWERS' CORNER:

Mosin: Thank you. I'm going for grim 'n' gritty this time. After watching The Pacific and its concentration on the worm's eye view of warfare—and the sheer brutality of same—I'm trying to get the same thing across with 60-ton walking tanks. As the saying goes, war never changes.

Cire4768: Thanks! Sorry I've been so slow getting you new material.

FraserMage: Quite possible. The Adept was basically a NPC, and a way for me to point out that the Blakists, for all they've done to the Battletech Universe, are at heart still human beings.

Rogue: Oh, I remember now about the Whitesnake video. Heh.

ACDoubleEdge: You're welcome. And antimissile systems don't stop Arrow IVs. It would be like trying to stop a Scud with an assault rifle.

MUSIC CORNER: Gotta return to Klaus Doldinger's Das Boot soundtrack again—this time, the (again, with feeling) claustrophobic "Eingeschlossen." And since I got the idea of the bridgelaying from A Bridge Too Far, the march from that film works pretty good too. (I'm tempted to include Devo's "Workin' In a Coal Mine.")

"Well, that was stupid," were the first words out of Priss Musashiya's mouth when Louisa met her at the base of the hill. Musashiya had gotten out of her Awesome only at Louisa's request, and was obviously trying to suppress a shiver. "You should've waited for the infantry. That's what they get paid for. You're in command, Louisa, which means you don't run around doing dismounted ops."

"I'm not going to argue with you," Louisa responded testily, mainly because Musashiya was probably right. She unrolled the map as Pryce, Fencer and Dore jogged up. They looked considerably warmer. "But I did find this."

"Son of a bitch," Pryce grinned. "That's worth getting Priss all riled up."

Musashiya spared him a glare, but nonetheless she pored over the map as well. It wasn't much intelligence-wise—just a clearprint of the area between Toston and Three Forks—but the grease pencil marks on it showed the disposition of every WOB force in the area. "Looks like you were right about Route Brittany. They've got minefields all over the place and artillery presited on it."

"Doesn't make me feel any better. Looks like we're taking Gina. You'd better be right about those bridges, Sarge," Musashiya addressed the big engineer.

"You bet your sweet ass, ma'am!" Dore grinned.

"I am betting my sweet ass," Musashiya shot back, annoyed at his enthusiasm. MechWarriors privately agreed that anyone who wasn't a MechWarrior had to have something wrong with them, and engineers were the worst of the bunch. "You said two hours—" Musashiya stopped herself, realizing she was taking command again. "Um, what do you think, Major?"

Louisa smiled. "Two hours, Sergeant?" Dore nodded. "Okay. Let's do it." They separated, leaving Musashiya and Louisa. "God help us if he's wrong," Musashiya said quietly. "It's already almost one. The sun comes up at five. If we're still stuck on the river crossing, the Wobbies are going to eat us for lunch."

"We'll make it." Louisa began to roll up this map, thought of something, and pointed to a symbol scratched over the positions of the 63rd Battalion. "What's this symbol mean? Do you know?"

Musashiya peered at it, then looked closer. Even in the darkness, Louisa could see the other woman blanch. "Yeah. They're going to hit the 63rd with gas in the morning. Guess we shouldn't be surprised…the Wobbies nuked Outreach, after all."

Louisa's stomach seemed to turn over. MechWarriors were protected from chemical attacks in their machines, and the tankers likewise had an overpressure system in their vehicles as well. Infantry in the open like the 63rd would be extremely susceptible to a gas attack, especially if they didn't have any sort of countermeasures like chemsuits or gas masks. Louisa had a bad feeling that the Virentofta Militia didn't have either. Chemical warfare was so rare in the Inner Sphere that hardly anyone even prepared for it anymore. The Sentinels held gas drills about once a year, and were considered overly cautious for doing it. Louisa wondered how Musashiya even knew the symbology for it.

Without a word, the two commanders parted. Louisa rolled up the map at a run.

It took an hour to get to the crossing site. Louisa's spirits rose with each kilometer they weren't detected. So did the terrain, but TF Valkyrie was able to keep a ridgeline between them and the nearest Blakist unit. It meant a northward detour up one valley and then down another, but no shots came from the darkness, or flares marking someone spotting them, or artillery. The weather had closed in again, with a cold drizzle.

She scanned the ridge with infrared in the cockpit of her Nightsky. There was nothing there, not even game. She tried to stave off worry. Could they hear us, maybe? You can feel a 'Mech coming long before you see it. It's not like we can muffle our feet. Tanks make noise, too. Their tracks squeak. Even hovertanks hum and whir kind of loud. I don't know how the hills work. Does noise echo, or are we in an acoustic shadow? Louisa had read about that in school. There had been a battle in the Fourth Succession War where Davion and Liao units had been fighting, separated only by a two-kilometer wide ridge. Neither wing of either army could hear the battle of the other wing due to a phenomenon known as acoustic shadow, where the terrain actually blanked out the sound of fighting. I wish I hadn't failed physics. Maybe Dore knows…I should probably go check on him. He's probably chewing his nails over that river.

As Louisa dismounted, fearing that she was in a sniper's sight the entire time, she commanded herself not to worry. The Blakists, she reasoned, couldn't be everywhere at once. They didn't have the manpower to cover every avenue of approach any more than the Sentinels did. And if she had been detected, they'd know it soon enough. She had Musashiya's lance covering the rear, with her command lance in the center and the tanks fanned out behind the raised berm of a railroad track; Virentofta still used ancient-style rails rather than maglev lines. It made a great defensive position, because the tanks could stay hull down, exposing only their turrets. She returned Pryce's wave and jogged to the top of the berm.

At once, she felt terribly exposed, resisting the urge to drop down. Despite it being dark, she could see that, to the north, the Vingaard River flowed out of the near-canyon to the south, passing between a few ridges before going into an open plain. There was no cover that way, and she could even see lights on the distant highway, which was being used by the Blakists. To the south, two mountains rose like guard towers. I've got to put people on top of those mountains, Louisa thought with alarm. If the Wobbies get anyone up there, we are screwed. She scrambled down the other side of the berm to the river.

To her surprise, Dore was nearly beside himself with joy. "Major! Check this out!" He pointed at the river. "Did you know about this? It wasn't on the map!" She saw what he was pointing at: serried across the dark, rushing water of the river were what looked to be three hills. "It's an old railroad bridge!" Dore exclaimed. "It's gotta be a hundred years old!"

"That's great…I guess." Louisa really didn't see what the big deal was. She could now see the hills were abutments, but the bridge was long gone.

"It's fuckin' awesome!" Dore forgot ranks in his happiness. "I can anchor the bridges to the abutments. I don't have to use suspension or anchor the whole friggin' thing to the banks. Oh, Major, this is gonna be easy! A lot easier than I thought."

Louisa felt herself returning Dore's grin. The engineer's enthusiasm was contagious. "Well, don't let me stop you, Sarge. Get to work."

"You got it, Major!" Dore began organizing his engineers. Already the first Aardvark was up to the bank, and with the hiss of pressure and whine of servomotors, it began extending out the bridge.

Fencer walked up to Louisa. "Is Sergeant Dore having fun yet?"

"I think he doesn't realize we're at war."

"Oh, he does—he's just at war with the river." He motioned at the high mountain across the river, just south of the crossing. "I sent a Lynx with Sgt. Eastwood and Sgt. Harris across a few minutes ago. They should have some infantry on top of that mountain any minute now."

"I should've thought of that earlier. What about the Toston Dam? The Wobbies have got to have a LP there."

Fencer chewed his lip. "I should've thought of that. Naturally, they're going to watch the dam. That's the power for the whole valley there." He shook his head. "I don't think we should send any troops down there, Major. We'll just have to have Harris keep an eye on them. We just don't have the manpower to spare, and if someone starts shooting…"

"Yeah." A sudden loud squeak as the bridge extended its full length did not brighten her spirits any. Her heart leapt when she saw a red flash from atop the mountain, and only relaxed a little when she saw Fencer answer it with his red flashlight. "Well, at least we have an OP up there now."

"They'll let us know if anything's up." He winced as another squeak came from the bridge. He glanced at Louisa. "You know, Major…it's going to be an hour or two before he gets the bridge ready. Why don't you get some sleep?"

"Is it that obvious?" Louisa had not looked in a mirror recently, but was sure she didn't look particularly prim and fresh.

"To an old warhorse like me, yes. When was the last time you got some rest?"

"I…" Louisa sighed. "I honestly don't remember." The DropShip ride down had been no place to rest, then came the hurried greeting and briefing from her parents, the drive down to Belgrade and the ambush, and the organizing of TF Valkyrie. "It's been about 16 hours, I guess."

Fencer put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "Then go take a power nap. We can do without you for a little bit." He winked at her and returned to his Lynxes.

Louisa decided to take that advice. Max was always admonishing Sheila for not getting enough sleep, especially during operations; Sheila invariably got sick after a long campaign. She walked down the berm and found Musashiya. "Priss, I'm going to go take a nap, if that's okay with you."

Musashiya, a radio headset on one ear, was breaking open a ration pack and looking dubiously at what was supposed to be an egg and sausage muffin. She looked up, a little surprised. "Um, sure. Go ahead." She paused and Louisa turned to walk back to her 'Mech. "Y'know, Major, you don't have to ask permission. You could just order me to take over for a bit."

Louisa didn't know what to say to that, so she smiled in the darkness. "I know. Just being polite."

Musashiya watched her walk away, shrugged, and took a bite of the muffin. It tasted something like plastic. She shrugged again and kept eating. The muffin was gone in a few bites, washed down with water. More squeaks and bangs came from the bridges; Musashiya ignored them as best she could. After one particularly loud bang, she got to her feet and walked over to where Dore was supervising. "Hey, Sarge."

Dore turned and pulled his night vision goggles up over his forehead. The engineers couldn't risk using flares or spotlights, and were doing the job by moonlight, enhancers, and feel. "Oh, hi, um, Lance Commander. Is there something—" He spotted something. "'Scuse me…hey, Quiorra! Move outta the way or you're going to be greasing these bridges with your guts!" A figure scurried over to the shore, out of the way of where the first bridge was being folded out. "Thanks, moron!" Dore tossed the last at the figure's back, then returned his attention to Musashiya. "Sorry about that. What's up?"

"The Wobbies downstream called. They said you're keeping them awake with all this racket."

Dore ruefully grinned. "Sorry. I'll do what I can."

"You might want to. The artillery'll hit you first."

"You have a point there. Where's the skipper?"

It took Musashiya a moment to realize that Dore was talking about Louisa. "She's racked out for a bit."

"Oh, okay. Anything else?"

It was Musashiya's turn to grin. This was Dore's turf, and she was trespassing. "Nope. Try and keep it down, Sarge."

"Yes'm." Dore turned back to his bridge and promptly forgot about her. Musashiya made her way back to her 'Mech and sat down on its foot. She leaned back against the thick leg of the Awesome and watched the engineers work.

It went surprisingly fast. The engineers were good at their work; the rest of the Sentinels looked on them as being somewhat bizarre. The rest of the regiment rarely saw them work, and some of the quicker campaigns the engineers didn't even participate in. They rarely saw combat, though they underwent regular and vigorous infantry training, and few won medals for their work. But they were proud and rightfully considered themselves elite, and Musashiya found herself fascinated as the first bridge was placed, then the second. The abutments were checked by men and women hanging from ropes above a fast-moving river that would probably kill them if they fell in. A brief rain squall came up and promptly soaked everyone—Musashiya was dry under the bulk of her 'Mech—but they kept working.

Dore came plodding through the muddy ground over to her a little while after the rain had gone, still grinning. "Lance Commander, we're finished."

Musashiya checked her watch. "An hour and fifteen minutes? Well done, Sergeant."

"Thank you, ma'am. We would've been done earlier if it wasn't for the rain."

"Go get some dry clothes. I'll wake up Lou—ah, the Major."

"I'm fine, Lance Commander. Couple more small things, that's all. You can start crossing anytime." The last was directed at Pryce, who had come out of his tank and walked over. Without saying a word, he turned and ran back to his Demolisher, giving the signal to the driver to start the engines. Musashiya threw Dore a salute and had it returned, then walked towards Louisa's Nightsky. She shook her head at Dore, briefly watching the burly man jog back to his bridge. The crazy bastard's enjoying this, Musashiya thought.

"Hey, Priss!" Yurika Misumaru simply was never going to learn how to address by rank. "Are you going to wake up Louisa?" She ran up to Musashiya's side.

Musashiya briefly considered letting Misumaru do the honors, but dismissed that notion; it was her responsibility to keep her commander informed. Not that it made a difference: as Musashiya went up the stanchions set in the Nightsky's chest, Misumaru followed her up.

She reached the slab-sided side of the 'Mech's head and put one hand on the hatch to open it. She stopped when she heard Louisa's voice on the other side. Yet the other woman wasn't speaking on the radio or in a normal voice: her voice was strained, the words unintelligible, until a single shout came through the hatch, muffled by its armor. "Don't leave me!" Louisa yelled. "Don't leave me!"

Misumaru heard it and sighed. "Oh, man. She's having that dream again. I'll handle this, Priss." Like a monkey, Misumaru clambered around Musashiya, undogged the hatch, and climbed in.

"Don't leave me!" Louisa screamed, loud enough that Musashiya saw heads turn on the ground below. She ducked her head into the hatch. Louisa was leaned back in her seat, her fingers dug into the side of it, her arms tightened. Her eyes were closed, but sweat poured down her face. "Kami," she breathed. This was too intimate. She didn't want to see this.

Misumaru straddled Louisa, grabbed her collar lapels, and shook her. "Hey, Louisa! Wake up, girlfriend!" She shook her again.

Louisa's eyes flew open, wild, and she gasped. "Wha…what…" Her head turned once, side to side, then her eyes settled on Misumaru. "Yur-Yurika?"

"Yep. You okay?"

Louisa reached up, rubbed the sweat off her face. "Uh…yeah. Yeah. I'm okay." She saw Musashiya standing in the hatchway and blushed. "Oh, shit. I mean, are they done?"

Musashiya nodded. "Yeah. Dore just finished."

"Let's move them out, then. I'm good, Yurika. Quit looking at me like that."

"Okay." Misumaru once more squirmed out of the cockpit and past Musashiya, throwing the other woman a wink. Musashiya remembered that Misumaru and Louisa were roommates at the barracks.

Louisa reached down and began powering up her 'Mech. "Anything else to report, Lance Commander?"

"Ah, no. LPs are still out. It rained a little."

"You heard, didn't you?" Louisa sighed and hung her head. "I'm all right, Priss. I get nightmares now and then."

Musashiya turned away, angry with herself. You keep thinking she's a kid. She's not. "Yeah, sorry. Me too." She threw Louisa what she hoped was a reassuring smile, closed the hatch, and made her way back down the 'Mech.

Louisa sighed again. "Dammit," she whispered to herself. "A hell of a time for that to happen." Louisa had trained herself to wake up when a nightmare started—she had several reaccuring ones—but had been so exhausted that her normal defenses had failed her. Priss probably thinks I'm crazy now. Great. Then again, there had been that reassuring "me too." Louisa wondered if all MechWarriors had nightmares. Her mother had them sometimes, waking up hyperventilating, never quite screaming and all the more terrifying to Louisa when she had been little, wondering why her mother was so scared. Max would hold Sheila until her breathing slowed to normal and she stopped shaking; Louisa sometimes hid behind her parents' bedroom door. She had never gone to help. To Louisa, Sheila Arla-Vlata was made of the same steel as her left arm, and to see her mother so utterly debilitated frightened her.

"Enough," Louisa commanded herself. She locked the nightmare back into its box at the back of her mind. If she didn't get her act together, there would be more nightmares this morning, probably real ones.