Opalescent Reflections
Dealer's Choice
Chapter 6
Katyusha, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
17 December 3048
Dozens of screens displayed views of the Clans fighting their own worst enemies - each other.
Khan Ulric Kerensky of Clan Wolf wasn't delighted about the cause they were fighting for, or that his Clan had been strong-armed into joining the invasion. On the other hand, Leo Showers' idea of how to pick the other participants was going to do absolutely nothing for unity.
For a dedicated Warden, this was a good thing. It was unlikely, from the dated intelligence he had on the Inner Sphere, that there would be much unity among those resisting the invasion.
That wasn't a sentiment he was going to share with everyone who had joined him to discuss what happened next. Most of them were friends, but not all of them were in sympathy with his views. And Garth Radick, his saKhan, was neither… but Ulric did respect the man. However thunderingly inconvenient his politics were.
"The results of the second round are in?" Radick asked, looking at the screens. "Were there any surprises?"
"The Hells Horses were knocked out by Clan Nova Cat." As a fellow leader among the Wolf's Crusader faction, Erik Kerensky felt comfortable to speak informally with Radick. Ulric's sibkin was on a couch, studying a report. "And the Diamond Sharks are coming out surprisingly strong."
The saKhan tilted his head in consideration. "Ian Hawker must be delighted - they have a bye for the third round and go directly into the finals."
"I doubt Ian Hawker has much to do with it." The white-haired woman who spoke was the oldest of the group. "He has never struck me as a capable leader. And his saKhan was worse. I hope the Diamond Sharks find someone more capable to replace Horn."
"It might be better if they do not, Cyrilla," Ulric observed. He looked up at a screen that was replaying the Diamond Shark's performance in the first round. "The four clans that have entered the finals have ten points each. The odds are that they will be the ones to participate in the invasion alongside us."
"We failed in the Trial of Refusal, Ulric," Radick chided him. "However you like it, we must perform at our best."
"I agree completely," he told his saKhan. "But that does not mean I want the other Clans to do well. Since we have been dragged into this I will make Showers regret it. He wishes to lead the invasion from our flagship? Very well, let him see us outstrip his Smoke Jaguars in every respect."
"So who are we looking at fighting alongside?"
"The most probable are the Diamond Sharks, Jade Falcons, Ghost Bears and the Smoke Jaguars, my Khan." Jenna Carns commanded the Fourth Wolf Guards, part of Ulric's Alpha Galaxy. "It is hard to pick between them, based merely off this trial - all of them have two victories so they are neck and neck. If I had to name one as most likely to fall into the reserve, the Diamond Sharks took very heavy losses in the first round."
"Aff, that was brutal. Did the Sharks and Adders develop a grudge while I was not paying attention?" asked Cyrilla.
"Losing a Khan is hard to forgive," Athen Kederk observed. Another of Ulric's Star Colonels, he was isorla from the Ghost Bears - taking him as bondsman had been one of the Khan's best decisions. Not only had he earned a bloodname, he had also worked his way up to turn the 328th Assault Cluster's fortune around. "My former Clan have never forgiven the Hells Horses for killing Kilbourne Jorgensson and that was a hundred and fifty years ago."
"Kaija Horn was no Kilbourne Jorgensson," Cyrilla snorted. "I cannot see them fighting to the last 'mech for her - the Diamond Sharks have always been willing to cut their losses. Something else is going on. What do we know about the officer who took over? He was not bid for the second round."
"The scandal of the Burrocks," Erik said lightly.
All eyes turned to him. "What is this?" Ulric asked, curiously.
"You have been too engaged in Leo Showers' aspirations," his sibkin chided. "Clan Burrock recently hosted two Trials of Bloodright for House Enders."
"A mechwarrior house," Ulric said, after a moment's thought. "They share it with the Goliath Scorpions?"
"And two other Clans - now three. Ace Enders is a freeborn."
Cyrilla straightened. "That has not happened in almost two hundred years. I am surprised he was allowed to try."
Erik nodded. "The debate among Clan Diamond Shark was furious. And then he slew the leader of the bloodhouse in a Trial of Refusal - thus needing to host a second Trial of Bloodright in short order."
"That is a scandal," Ulric admitted. "It is fortunate for this Ace Enders that he was not faced with the Burrocks in the current Trials. And now that they have been knocked out of contention, he need not fear it."
"Wait, I have heard of this." Garth Radick drummed his fingers. "Is this the madman who challenged the Burrocks to complete every round of the Trial in a single afternoon?"
That got a laugh from Erik. "The tale must have grown in the telling. It was not the entire Trial, the Goliath Scorpions, Hells' Horses and even the Fire Mandrills had too much sense to agree to that. But four rounds of one bracket were fought and won - and this after he had won his place through the Grand Melee."
"Interesting," Jera raked her hair back. "So Ian Hawker has an attack dog - or should I say, an attack shark? I thought he hated freeborn warriors but someone with that record - he would want them under his control."
"I suppose he is not entirely a fool. Just mostly." Cyrilla shook her head. "Daring and stubborn. It reminds me of Tasha…"
Ulric shook his head. "One Diamond Shark ristar is unlikely to change their fortunes. I will be more concerned there once we know who is elected to lead alongside Ian Hawker."
Garth leaned back in his seat. "Four Clans in the finals, and both the Burrocks and Hells Horses are out. As I recall, at least one other Clan must have lost their second match and be removed from consideration."
"The Ice Hellions," Jera told him.
"For some reason I am not surprised. So that leaves us six more clans fighting for three places in the final rounds. Do we know the pairings yet?"
Ulric frowned. "The drawing of lots for that should be taking place now - Showers wants to move forwards quickly." He crossed to the console and checked his message traffic. "No, not yet. The Blood Spirits, Coyotes and the Goliath Scorpions all won their first round matches so they would have seven points if they reached the finals, putting them slightly better off than the other three."
"Hmm. The Coyotes and Goliath Scorpions have been our allies for years," Garth noted. "Although I have no great expectations of the latter. At least they will not be facing each other in the third round. As I understand it, the rules will pair each with a Clan that lost their first match."
Ulric nodded. His peer had remembered the rules correctly. "If either of them reach the finals, they will face an uphill struggle. Any defeat will end their hopes - unless most of the Clans that have reached the finals already face disastrous defeats."
"That is hardly likely. As much as I would like to see the Smoke Jaguars crushed, they are committing fine troops. And even if they lose the first round of the finals, the current finalists would be allowed to compete in the second round." Radick shook his head. "No, I do not see that as likely. I will admit it paints a dismal picture of the invasion's leadership. Karl Bourjon is the only one of them who is likely to respond intelligently. Khan Osis and Khan Crichell are very much part of the ilKhan's inner circle, while Hawker wants nothing more than to join them."
Jera Carns' comm pinged and she pulled it from her pocket. "A message from the Hall of Khans," she advised the group. "The final round's match-ups have been drawn. Clan Coyote will face the Steel Vipers."
"That's not ideal," Erik muttered. "The Steel Vipers are no pushover. How about the Scorpions?"
"Clan Goliath Scorpion will be facing Clan Fire Mandrill," she told him solemnly. "I would say that makes it sure that the Scorpions will be in the finals but the Mandrills managed not to get knocked out last round so they must have something going for them."
Ulric nodded. "Still, it is a good thing. And by elimination, that means the Blood Spirits will be fighting the Nova Cats. It really does not matter to us which of those win."
Tyr Lowlands Proving Grounds, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
2 January 3049
A storm was rolling in over the proving ground. Thick, heavy clouds were propelled by fierce winds and rain was already hammering down on Ace's cockpit.
Angus Labov was also cursing up a storm as his Warhawk marched at the lead of the little force, although only Ace could hear him. It was a level of vitriol he had never heard from the Star Colonel before.
"If the Steel Vipers could hear you, they might be frightened enough to surrender," he cut in when his superior paused for breath.
The pause drew out and then Labov grunted. "My temper is a flaw," he admitted. "I need someone to vent to or it may rule me in battle."
"Please carry on. I am learning all sorts of new vocabulary. What does defenestrating even mean?"
"Throwing someone out of the window."
Ace squinted out through the remain. "I understand the impulse. Then the meteorologists would share our suffering."
The storm system had been predicted to pass far to the south and disperse as it encountered the mountains there. Unfortunately, the winds had shifted north and there was no sign of the storm fading. Much the reverse, which meant that the Diamond Sharks and the Steel Vipers would face the first round of the finals - under hurricane conditions.
"And the Steel Vipers will not surrender. Khan Breen's injury may keep her out of the finals but she will demand her subordinates win on her behalf." Labov continued. "They were defeated once already - another loss will knock them out of Operation Revival entirely. They only have six points - losing here guarantees that they cannot even become the reserve Clan."
"And winning would bring them level with us," Ace agreed. "We could dig in and wait the storm out?"
The Warhawk twisted back and forth. "Neg. The proving ground is not large enough to avoid notice, even if we had the supplies to wait for days. And Star Colonel Andrews knows that the weather gives him a solid advantage if he presses on now."
As previously, the Diamond Shark bid for the contest had been a balanced one - eight battlemechs, two points of Elementals and a full star of ten aerospace fighters. Given the lack of heavy forests within this training ground, there was no real risk of the Steel Vipers repeating the strategy used by the Star Adders previously. Unfortunately, the weather now made it suicidal for the aerospace forces to be deployed - the fusion-powered fliers were less vulnerable to weather conditions than helicopters and the jets of yesteryear, but there were limits and the hurricane sweeping up on them was quickly exceeding them.
The Steel Vipers had split their forces between omnimechs and elementals, configuring the former to defend themselves against attacks from the air. But there had been just enough warning for both sides to refit for the closer range battle that would be the result of fighting under the limited visibility forced by the storm.
"The elementals will love this weather," Ace admitted. "The numbers are against us. Should we concede? We can continue to the next round and the two points from winning that round would still give us a good chance."
"It tempts me," Labov admitted. "But Khan Hawker will not have it. If the Bears, Falcons and Jaguars win their matches then we will be left scrabbling for just the reserve slot. He insists that we try, even if it may kill us all."
"I notice that he is not here among us," Ace noted. For all her failures, Kaija Horn had led from the front, sharing the risks of the other warriors. In contrast, Ian Hawker was too busy trying to impress the ilKhan with his loyalty.
"Say no more about that unless you are willing to challenge him," the Star Colonel warned. "You are useful to him, but he has many ways to deal with you other than direct confrontation."
"Which still leaves us with a problem." Ace frowned as they marched down a slope towards a river. Once water levels rose, it would be difficult to get across that. If they could force the Vipers to fight across it, then it might help offset the numbers advantage. "You said Andrews… Star Colonel Brett Andrews?"
"Aff."
Ace thought back to New Kent. "I have faced the Fourth Viper Guards before."
"I know," Labov confirmed. "Though not Brett Andrews himself."
"We spoke, though. It is possible he may act rashly," Ace mused. "If challenged properly."
"I did not include you in my bid because of your charming personality. You have a talent for provoking warriors into foolish decisions. Just continue to direct it towards our enemies."
The feet of the Diamond Shark mech's dug into the slippery mud, making their descent of the slope more dangerous than normal. The Elementals were clinging to Omnimechs, Ace not among those burdened this time. He tried to keep the nose of his Stormcrow pointed into the wind, reducing the battering it was taking, in case wind pressure pushed him off balance. The heavier 'mechs of the rest of what was functionally a binary had less to worry about in that regard.
The rain made thermals and seismics almost useless, so it was magscan that picked up the first signs that they were too late. "Star Colonel, I am picking up heavy metal on this side of the river."
"It appears that everything conspires against us." Labov growled. "Very well, Star Captain. I will rely on you to draw as many of them off as you can. Take up position on the right flank - I will provide support if I can, but this will be a brutal brawl."
"Aff, Star Colonel." Ace dug the feet of his Stormcrow into the mud and shifted towards the flank, opening up his radio on the general channel. Scanning the Steel Viper force, he saw that the lightest 'mech was a Mad Dog. Otherwise there were a trio of Crossbows, one Summoner, two Gargoyles, two Warhawks and a single mighty Dire Wolf - the largest omnimech in service. Elementals were riding aboard fully half the force.
"Salutations, Brett Andrews. We meet again."
"I found it hard to believe that the Diamond Sharks could sink lower in my estimation," Andrews spat back. "But to bring a freeborn into a battle as important as this? After you managed to get your own Khan and almost all of your command killed facing the Star Adders, I would have expected them to realize their mistake."
"At least I led my forces to victory," Ace riposted. "You may be unfamiliar with the concept - it's when you accomplish your mission and those facing you do not. Unexplored territory for you, I know."
"I am a bloodnamed warrior of Clan Steel Vipers. My career is built on victory, unlike a bloodless fish like you!" shouted Andrews, one of the Crossbows stepping forwards. That would have given his 'mech away even if Ace wasn't getting automated warnings that it was trying to get a weapons lock on him.
Ace laughed pointedly. "Oh, did you not hear? I have also won a bloodname."
"You lie!"
"Not at all. I am now Star Captain Ace Enders." He paused and then: "Now that we have carried out the required introductions, you can run away with your tail between your legs. Just. Like. Last time."
"Alpha Star! Kill that freebirth!" roared Andrews.
Ace threw his Stormcrow into reverse, backing up the slope as the five Omnimechs not carrying elementals charged up the slope, disregarding the threat posed by the other Diamond Sharks.
They were fairly safe in this decision as Labov issued a stream of orders, swinging the rest of his command out to the left before splashing down the hill and into a point blank brawl with the five remaining Steel Viper 'mechs and their elemental support.
Ace had no time to pay attention to any of that. The Steel Viper Mad Dog fired a particle beam that only narrowly missed his 'mech and the cluster shells from its autocannon pelted him with equal amounts of explosives and mud. For now, the other 'mechs in the pursuit kept from firing, perhaps not in range yet or not quite willing to give up the code of zellbrigen.
Bounding backwards on his jump jets, Ace blasted at the Mad Dog with both ER PPCs. It was not unlike his battle with Blake Hawker, he thought. The difference was that once Hawker was beaten, the duel had ended but this time he would face four more opponents.
The particle beams blasted armor across either side of the narrow torso of the Mad Dog, missing the thin central section and threatening both of the missile launchers. The battle computer claimed that the armor across them was now only paper thin.
Another bolt of man-made lightning crackled through the storm and Ace twisted the Stormcrow through the air, having to land leant up against a large boulder to avoid the shot. The autocannon added thunder, this time blasting a series of craters into the Stormcrow's right arm, using conventional ammunition.
Though the rain was helping to cool his 'mech, Ace regretted firing both ER PPCs again the moment he'd done so, feeling the Stormcrow slow as the myomers sagged under the heat.
The Steel Viper regretted it even more though - both particle beams caught the missile launcher on the left side and they ripped through the tubes and their ammunition stores. Advanced safety systems vented the bulk of the secondary explosions out of the back of the 'Mech while the beams continued, savaging structural members and control relays.
The Mad Dog fell to one side, landing on one side and then rolled onto its back, sliding down the slope before the mechwarrior inside managed to jab the legs down and catch himself.
The other Steel Vipers moved smoothly around their fallen companion and the other bird-like 'mech within the pursuit opened up on Ace from the back of the pack. Autocannon, missiles, a pair of large lasers. This wasn't another Mad Dog, not even a Timber Wolf. It was a Warhawk, the same basic chassis as that Angus Labov was piloting.
The anti-missile systems did their familiar work, thinning out the LRMs until they and the cluster rounds failed to inflict serious damage, but one of the lasers bit into the leg of the Stormcrow.
Ace ducked behind the boulder, letting the Stormcrow cool off. He'd have to draw this out, which meant running… but if he broke contact entirely then Andrews would likely take his 'mechs back to fight Labov. So a balancing act.
Breaking into a run, Ace broke off along the slope, running up river, keeping the Stormcrow a little below its maximum speed - close enough to that of the Crossbows and Gargoyle that they would be able to keep up, but faster than the Warhawk. Forcing it to spring just to keep up, trying to get back into range of its weapons.
Twisting he fired his ER PPC back, aiming for one of the Crossbows. The particle beam scoured the Steel Vipers emblem from its chest. "What are you doing, Andrews?" he accused. "Getting in the way of a shot aimed for one of your men. Very heroic, but it breaks zellbrigen."
"You were not aiming for Michel! You are dishonorable scum!"
Well, he wasn't wrong, Ace admitted. That shot hadn't been aimed near the Warhawk. "You heard that, Michel? He is trying to steal your glory, quaiff?"
There was no retort from the Warhawk but all four omnimechs continued to chase after Ace. He had seen a side valley on the maps. It should be possible to escape from that over the sides if he had to, using his jump jets. So far as he could tell, none of the Steel Vipers had jump jets at all. A way for him to disengage once he had to.
As he turned into the valley, Ace was surprised to see that the valley contained a city. Not a town or enclave, a city's core - buildings that towered above his Stormcrow, with few of the smaller structures he'd expect. For a moment, Ace hesitated but then the Warhawk's lasers bit into him. The range was extreme enough that he didn't take full damage, but the two furrows were deep enough to warn him.
There was no choice to go on. Was this an inhabited city? Some dark caste settlement hidden away in the proving ground? How would that be possible?
As he advanced, Ace found that there was no sign of life. The towers were the same sort of prefabricated buildings he'd seen elsewhere… but they were barren. No living men or women, not even a dog or cat. There were no signs that anyone had lived here - no plants on windowsills, no garbage cans… no road signs.
On the edge, Ace turned back and fired again, both ER PPCs - blasting fragments of armor from the chest of the Gargoyle and one leg of the Crossbow that had escaped him. Blatantly disregarding zellbrigen. Angering them.
Then he slipped away, between the buildings. They followed.
There was battle damage, now that he was amid the towers. Broken walls, shattered roadways. Wires between the buildings that had been snapped by 'mechs racing between them. And as he looked into the interior of the buildings, Ace found them hollow shells.
It was the effigy of a city. Intended to give the image of one, without the substance. Who would build such a thing? And why?
The magscan was confused now. The buildings still had structural beams supporting them - and concrete reinforced with even more metal. The wind howling between and even through them gave rise to eerie shrieks and the rain made the roads slick and dangerous. Thermals were still muted.
Ace didn't retreat far. He wanted to keep their interest. Two streets deep, he turned left along a road and followed it to the hollow shell of a residential block - one that he found had been broken open at some point, and several floors ripped away. Squinting through the windows of the other side he could see the movement of one of the Steel Vipers, threading its way into the tangle of buildings. Ace extended his arms to rest the ER PPCs against one window each. It made the shots awkward, but the narrow approach made the 'mech's route predictable. He fired once it walked into his crosshairs.
The flash of the ER PPCs made it clear that he was firing at the Gargoyle. Backing away out of the shell of the building, Ace fled again - firing his jump jets to hop up onto the top of a comparatively low building, ducking so that the Stormcrow was mostly behind the cover of a taller structure.
Holding still, he waited and sure enough, the Gargoyle raced around onto the street, trying to catch up before he could get away.
Focused on the street level, the assault 'mech ran directly past Ace without the shape of the Stormcrow - distorted by the cover of the buildings and the darkness - registering. Swivelling, Ace could feel the building shaking beneath his 'mech but there was no time for worrying about that. At close range he fired both PPCs into the back of the taller 'mech.
Each shot carved deeply through the armor and into the shielding of the Gargoyle's mighty reactor. Both air and rainwater exploded into incandescent steam as they encountered the heat of the fusion reaction inside. The fireball ripped through the Gargoyle's interior, melting the delicate internal systems and no doubt burdening some poor technicians with weeks of work to restore it to functionality.
Ace didn't stay to watch the result - he flared his jump jets to hop backwards before his perch could collapse, landing on the street behind and running away.
He could only assume, thinking about it, that this was intended to train warriors in how to fight in an urban environment. But who would take a fight into a settlement - the damage done by 'mechs would wreck the very prize being fought for. Against a Clan, it would always be easier to fight for possession somewhere else. Perhaps to practice for attacks on dark caste settlements? But he'd never heard of one built on this scale?
Distracted slightly by thinking about this - and further hindered by the darkness and uselessness of most of his sensors - Ace didn't notice the Crossbow coming around the corner until they had almost collided.
Both mechwarriors raised their weapons and fired reflexively, opening up.
Flechettes from the anti-missile systems were almost entirely useless with so little distance to work with, although they did their best. The large barrel-shaped forearms of the Crossbow could each fire a dozen Streak SRMs and almost a quarter-ton of explosives and propellant erupted into the face of the Stormcrow. Ace's ears rang as more than one of the missiles went off within a meter of him. His canopy glass cracked - one side-panel spiderwebbed so badly that he couldn't see out of it.
His PPCs had fired into the rounded left side of the Crossbow's chest and the arm on that side - not enough to breach either. He didn't have time to get out of range of the deadly SRM barrages (was there anywhere on his 'mech that had complete armor coverage any more?) so he stepped closer, thrusting the Stormcrow's arms forwards to push the Crossbow's own arms away and out of line with him.
Neither 'mech could fire their weapons at the other. They wrestled awkwardly. The Crossbow's foot crashed against the left shin of Ace's 'mech, doing more damage. With a roar, Ace raised the Stormcrow's arms high and then smashed them down on the helmet-like head of the heavier 'mech.
With a crunch, the entire head-section seemed to squash down into the shoulders of the Crossbow. It would have been comical were it not for the way the armorglass of its cockpit had shattered and the visible evidence that the warrior inside had been crushed by the impact.
Ace gasped for breath. That had been close. Too close.
There was a flash of blue-white light and for a moment he thought a PPC was firing. Then he realized that it was just lightning.
The Crossbow still had the proud Steel Viper insignia on its chest. This wasn't Brett Andrews then. But it was likely that the mechwarrior had managed to report Ace's location.
Ace started to stalk away into the night, but the first step was more of a waddle. Compensating, Ace found that left leg wasn't responding properly. The kick must have caused damage. He could still limp along, about as fast as the remaining Crossbow could.
This might be a problem. At least he still had both PPCs. Then he glanced at them. Yes, both still showed as operational. Good news, because they weren't really intended to be used to batter at another 'mech at point-blank ranges. The old SLDF manuals he'd read spoke of training for that but he'd never come across anything about it while in a sibko and the lessons on zellbrigen treated close contact between 'mechs as 'collisions' and treated them as a mark of inept piloting. It had certainly been a costly encounter for Ace, if more so for the Steel Viper. If he could then he would try to avoid such confrontations.
Moving deeper into the city, Ace jumped the Stormcrow up onto a taller building, and then onto the roof of a towering industrial building that fortunately proved as sturdy as it looked. Hunched over on the roof, Ace searched for signs of movement. He expected that he would see the other two Steel Vipers making for the site of his recent clash.
After long enough for him to get worried, another flash of lightning provided just enough light to see the Warhawk's flat-topped shape moving through the city. But he could not see the shape of the Crossbow. Had Brett Andrews given up? Leaving the Warhawk to keep hunting?
It made no sense to Ace, but it was just as likely that the mess of the city's streets and the storm was simply hiding the Crossbow.
Scanning the buildings, Ace focused his ER PPCs on the next gap in the buildings, waiting for the Warhawk to emerge between them.
Once the Assault 'mech was in view he fired them both, the man-made lightning crashing out across the city while a more natural bolt struck the top of one of the buildings, perhaps connecting to a lightning rod built into it.
Though struck, the Warhawk wheeled sharply and reacted with laser shots that bit into the roof of the industrial building. Cracks began to form, snaking across the ancient concrete towards the Stormcrow.
Sensing collapse was imminent, Ace feathered his jump jets. Perhaps that was the last straw because the roof collapsed, heavy panels crashing down into the interior. The young Diamond Shark allowed gravity to drag him down after it, using just enough jump jet thrust to keep the fall controllable.
The ground floor of the cavernous industrial space survived the debris with no problem and Ace landed smoothly before limping over towards the wall facing the Warhawk. With a bit of luck it would come to investigate and he'd be able to get a couple more shots off before withdrawing. The walls were mostly solid, but there was a closed metal panel most likely intended to simulate a loading door. The panel had rusted away in several places, allowing Ace to look through.
As expected, he saw the lumbering Warhawk moving through the city towards him, though it was following a road that wasn't aimed right towards the opening and before he could get a shot off, it vanished behind another tower.
Ace positioned himself to snipe at the Warhawk as soon as it came into view and checked the compressed 360 degree display above his normal eye line, searching for the best route to escape from the building. He had just settled on a second metal panel, on the other side of the building, when another 'mech - Brett Andrews' Crossbow - used that panel as an entrance.
It took one critical second for Brett Andrews to realize what had happened and Ace took the opportunity to throw himself to one side, trying to take cover behind one of the four vertical pillars that supported what was left of the roof.
Like the other Crossbow, Brett Andrews' mech was loaded with Streak SRMs. The sophisticated targeting systems were smart enough to steer them on wide arcs around the pillar to zero in on Ace's Stormcrow. It took them a little longer reach him, giving the anti-missile systems more time to work, but it wasn't enough to stop them all. Explosions wreathed around the medium 'mech, shaving away even more armor. Sections of the status display flipped from armor damage to reveal that they were bare of protection.
Ace didn't manage to keep the Stormcrow upright and it fell on its back, skidding out of the pillar's cover. Desperately, conscious that it was only a matter of time until the Warhawk arrived, he raised the arms and fired both PPCs. Not at the Crossbow - at the top of the nearest pillar to Andrews' mech.
The particle beams obliterated the top of the pillar, separating it from the roof panels it was supporting. The ceiling began to sag and crack.
"Freebirth! You cannot even shoot straight!" the Star Colonel gloated and then fired all his missiles - a deadly salvo that could finish Ace's Stormcrow off…
Except that the collapsing roof finally disintegrated and the two dozen missiles were swallowed by a deluge of falling concrete and metals. Some of it hit the Crossbow, though the Battlemech was far too sturdy to be taken out so easily. The premature detonations of the SRMs when they had barely left their tubes caused more damage, but nonetheless, Andrews staggered out of the cloud of dust with his Crossbow basically operational.
"Just - !"
"Die," Ace said as he fired both ER PPCs again.
The particle beams hit so closely that they seemed to blend into a single bolt of energy that smashed into the damaged chest, exactly where Ace had already shot him. Structural members melted and tore. The Crossbow tore in two, the spine of the mech broken and the weight of the reactor - more than a third of the 'mech's total mass - dragged the shoulders, arms and cockpit one way while the legs and hips went the other.
The moment of triumph was demolished as the other door panel was ripped away. Crashing through the opening, the Warhawk entered the industrial building, a deadly stalker. Its armor was broken in places, but it it was nowhere pierced by the shots that Ace had fired.
Without stopping, the warrior, Michel, twisted the waist to bring its every weapon to bear upon Ace.
At the last moment, Ace fired every jump jet left to him. Not all of them fired and one of them even exploded as the plasma discharged from it encountered an obstruction within the vent. But they lifted the Stormcrow off the ground and flung it across the open space.
Everything that the Warhawk had fired crashed through the support pillar which Ace had intended to be cover for him only a moment ago. Missiles, lasers and explosive shells ripped the structural beam apart.
There was a ominous creak, so loud that Ace could not help but to look up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Warhawk trying to slow its pace and retreat, but eighty-five tons of metal moving at over sixty kilometers an hour could not be overcome in an instant.
And then in a thunderous moment that drowned out even the storm, the entire building collapsed. Ancient walls, left unmaintained for uncounted years, collapsed inwards, smashing down on all three battlemechs. Ace threw his left arm across his cockpit and wondered if this was the end of his life.
He lost consciousness for a moment and woke with blood in his mouth.
The cockpit was dark, but he could still feel the vibrations of his reactor. After a moment, displays began to reboot one after another. Not all of them - his Heads-up Display remained dark and the status display reported - he assumed wrongly - that absolutely nothing on the 'mech was active. Not even itself. The compressed display's power LED showed it was still live, but it showed only darkness.
Gripping the controls, Ace worked each in turn. He could hear and feel the limbs move - the legs moved, as did the right arm. The left barely did, remaining locked in place across the front of his cockpit.
Wrestling with the mobility he had, working blind except for the feedback of the gyro, Ace brushed the debris away until he could see traces of light on the one external display he had. The rain against the sensors. A flash of lightning in the sky.
Finally, painfully, he managed to apply enough leverage with his one arm to get the feet under him. From there the Stormcrow lurched upright and he had a view in all directions.
The city was visible, over piles of wreckage that had once been the fake factory. It was hard for him to find reference points, but then he saw what was left of Andrew's Crossbow. The reactor must have been breached because the head and shoulders were melted.
Movement caught Ace's eyes and he turned to see the Warhawk, still mostly buried but shaking itself as the warrior inside tried to get it free from the debris that had landed on it.
Soon, inevitably, the Steel Viper would succeed. And then…
Ace moved the Stormcrow closer, what had once been a limp now little more than a hop with the one leg that could move a little as the other was barely flexing at all. Tapping his speakers, Ace ordered: "Shut down your 'mech. And get out."
His voice, distorted but understandable, was audible from his speakers.
The Warhawk kept struggling.
Ace brought his arm around, trying to guess from the limited display where he would need to aim it to point the muzzle at the cockpit. "Last chance," he warned, wondering if the weapon would even fire.
For a moment he thought he would have to find out. Then the Warhawk stopped moving and he saw the cockpit hatch open. A slender mechwarrior crawled out and wrenched off his helmet. Rain washed down through his hair, soaking it through, and washing blood off his face.
Relieved, Ace stepped back. "Good enough. You are isorla… or would you rather take bondsref?"
The mechwarrior seemed to speak, but he couldn't hear a word. Apparently his audio sensors were broken. But the man wasn't trying to shoot himself.
Then a particle beam smashed into the Stormcrow, blasting away the right arm and Ace's last weapon. Charged particles grounded through the 'mech and Ace screamed as he caught the barest fraction of it through the controls, jerking his hands off the joysticks.
Turning, he saw the sinister shape of a Mad Dog limping towards him. The last of Brett Andrews' Alpha Star… or perhaps the first - the one he had blasted earlier.
It must have been following after them the whole time.
Ace could not fight. He could not flee. Kerensky's name… he probably couldn't even surrender.
"Fine then," he growled, not hearing the speakers from outside. And then he turned the Stormcrow, lurching it towards the damaged Mad Dog.
The 'mech raised its ER PPC. At his current speed it would have more than enough time to fire repeatedly.
And then pulses of laser fire caught the bird-like 'mech from behind. A fusillade that would have been brutal against an intact omnimech. In its half-dead state, the Mad Dog stood no chance at all. It fell… and behind it stood the shape of another Warhawk.
Lightning flickered, revealing what was left of blue and green paint.
"Somehow," Angus Labov told him, "I did not think you would please Ian Hawker by dying here." He paused. "Nothing to say?"
Ace shut down his reactor and unstrapped himself. The main hatch was warped, but after a few minute's work, he was able to kick loose the armor glass panel that had been almost shattered earlier and wriggle free. He found the Warhawk had moved closer.
Labov extended one arm up so that Ace could climb across and reach his superior's cockpit. The Star Colonel cracked the canopy and let the younger mechwarrior scramble in behind him. "Just to reassure you, we won," he told Ace.
"That is a relief. I thought you were here to tell me to knock it off and accept hegira."
"Neg." Labov growled and looked back at him. "Are any of them still active out there?"
"Neg, you got the last of them." He pointed at Michel, who was sheltering from the rain under the half-buried Warhawk. "I took that one as bondsman."
"He impressed you?"
"He did not kill himself when I told him."
Labov closed his eyes. "It is a start. We will need warriors. Besides a few elementals, the two of us are the last of our warriors. Whatever we face next round, I hope they do not have a counter for our aerospace fighters - we will be doing well to field a binary of 'mechs and elementals."
Ace flinched. Another meatgrinder. "We have thirteen points. If that does not get us a place in the invasion, I would accept the reserve," he admitted.
"You and I are reasonable men. Our khan…" Labov broke off. "I brought half my Cluster, the better half, for this Trial. At this rate there will be nothing to bring back," he said bitterly.
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
2 January 3049
The New Year's celebrations meant that Wei had social obligations - two days of racing around the globe to attend parties leading up to and then following from the changing of the date - all scheduled for local time and therefore strung out across thirty-six hours. In that time she'd made five different sub-orbital hops.
The last time she'd spent that long partying had been before her departure from Canopus IV - an occasion that had involved fun and games with a pair of redheaded fraternal twins that she was pretty sure had been Taurian agents. The man who gave her video recordings of that party had certainly been Taurian and stiffly shocked when she thanked him for his kindness and asked if he'd mind her sharing the recordings with her friends in ComStar's morality police… er, Psi division. (She didn't have any, but he didn't know that).
It was like people thought her hedonism was a guilty secret at times. She literally wrote New Hedonist on her tax forms, what did they expect?
Bangkok could have been another blow-out of that scale, if it wasn't for being dragged away by the ComGuards for her own safety. And for once the killjoys had had a point.
Both of those occasions had been much more fun than making small talk about business, drinking in moderation and snacking on buffets prepared more for appearance than taste. As the limousine carrying her back to Hilton Head from the shuttle port rolled smoothly onto the bridge connecting the island to the North American mainland, Primus Wei was half-asleep and wondering if she should just ask Thomas Calderon to send the redheads to Terra. Worst case he said no, and those two had known how to have fun!
Wei was in no sense prepared for the sudden freefall as an entire span of the bridge was suddenly severed from the rest of the highway by explosions at both ends. She was only saved from slamming head-first into the roof of the limousine by the fact that she was lying along the width of the car, head on a pillow. The pain of her right arm breaking woke her up sharply.
An instant later, the car hit the water and she slammed back into the seat. It was padded, at least, sparing her more broken bones.
The Primus' first reaction was to scream and grip her arm, trying to stop the snapped bones from grinding against each other. She wasn't sure what was going on, but something was seriously wrong. Setting aside the fall, the heavy limousine shouldn't be bobbing like that, as if it was…
A water line rose above the lower edge of the window and a chill went through Wei. She'd been on a few ocean cruises and safety briefings ran through her mind. The car was sinking - probably kept afloat this long only because the interior was hermetically sealed. And with water pressing against the doors, she'd never get them open.
With a terrified yelp, Wei flailed for the window switch, praying that there was still enough power for it to operate. Fortunately, the armored limousine was built to military specifications and the armor-glass panel obediently retracted, letting cold water pour into the interior.
The limousine began to roll, the left side - where Wei's head was - dipping under the weight of the water entering the card. Wei clung to the seat belts and dragged herself upright, keeping her head above the water line until the top of the window was underwater and there was another moment of stability - the pocket of air still inside the rear compartment conferring a tiny degree of buoyancy.
Wei bit back another scream as she turned over and her arm bones reminded her that yes, they were still broken, and would she please get some damned painkillers! Or failing that, stop moving.
Neither was an option. She could feel the limousine sinking and while the channel between Hilton Head and the mainland wasn't all that deep, it was still deep enough.
Wriggling around, she pushed her head through the open window. That worked, but getting the rest of her through did not.
Scraping back and forth made it clear that her bust and shoulders were just a bit too large to get through the window. Years of contorting herself for exercise and leisure made the solution obvious, but it would mean letting go of her broken arm.
Better more damage to the arm than drowning, the woman thought. Wei pulled her head back inside, took a deep breath from the air still there and then thrust her left arm out of the window.
With that shoulder through the window, her head followed and then the rest of her - Wei having to bite back howls of pain every time her right arm encountered any obstruction.
After a moment of panic when her hips jammed against the edges, she managed to work herself free and coiled her legs to get them clear of the vehicle, which sank away into the cold water.
Holding her broken arm in place with her other hand, Wei kicked frantically towards the surface, lungs burning. The relief she felt when her head broke up through the water and she could breathe again was the best she'd felt in years. Sometimes the simple pleasures are best, she thought. Who writes a poem to breathing… but go without? Never!
A wave smacked her in the face and she shivered. Stay in the water too long and she'd freeze. It was mid-winter and evening was setting in. Although if she got out, the air could be colder.
The dilemma was replaced by another as the sound of an outboard motor alerted her to an orange inflatable zipping along the bridge. A rescue team - or someone trying to finish the job? This couldn't be an accident.
Fuck it, she decided. Being shot was faster than freezing.
"Over -" Another wave and she coughed, "Over here! Help!"
The boat turned towards her, then powerful hands reached down and hauled her up and out of the water. Wei howled as one of them grabbed her by the broken arm.
"Sorry," the man holding her said, "Broken arm," he added to his companion.
The other man nodded. "Get the thermal blanket," he ordered, turning the tiller of the little boat. "We'll get you to medical attention, ma'am."
The first of the pair - now that she had a moment, Wei could tell he had a ComGuards badge on his rescue gear - ripped open a sealed plastic bag and unfolded a dry blanket - although water spray was going to correct that soon. He wrapped it around her and started rubbing her down with it.
Wei dragged the blanket around her, feeling it soak up the water on her skin. It was warm - she realized it must have a heating element in it. "Blake's beard." Her breath rasped in and out of her lungs. She'd almost died.
"You'll be alright, we have the best medics," he told her.
"Bluffton coast guard station?" she asked. The rescue facilities were on the mainland, where they were heading. Security around the HPG station would have kicked and screamed if some random boater was brought onto the island because of an accident, so the emergency procedure was to take anyone recovered from the water to the mainland.
There was a nod. "Are you alone?"
Only then did the thought of the driver cross Wei's mind. Ashamed, she looked out at the waves. "There was another man in the car."
The face she could see paled. "I don't see anyone, ma'am. And you'll freeze if we don't get you inside. I'll let the other boats know."
They knew their business. Wei bit back any impulse to override them. "Please do."
"What's your name?" the man at the back of the boat asked.
He's trying to keep me talking, she realized. Probably worried about concussion… or shock. "Wei Rong," she replied. She saw the moment recognition sank in. "Yeah, that Wei Rong. Thanks."
"It's what we do," the driver said modestly. "Jake, let Hilton Head know the Primus is being taken to the coast guard station."
"Don't tell them I'm okay," Wei ordered sharply.
"Ma'am?" Jake asked, hand gripping his comm-unit.
Wei indicated the bridge, the clean break between two of the supports visible. "That was no accident. Right now it's best whoever did it thinks that they might have succeeded."
"Screwing with medical reports is an offense," Jake told her and then shrugged. "Can you write a note for our boss."
"I'm fairly sure I can put in a good word with the Precentor-Martial," she told him sharply. Then shook her head. "Multiple broken bones is true. Throw in that I'm fighting for my life and you're not sure how long I have."
"Goddamn politics," the coast guard muttered, but he repeated her instructions on the radio. "They're going to drop everything to deal with a medical crisis that doesn't exist. I hope no one else needs those resources."
"It's not that far off from truth - no one knows exactly when they'll die," Wei pointed out. "And trust me: I am fighting for my life right now."
She felt a wave of fatigue now that the adrenaline was wearing off. But however tempting it was to close her eyes, the two were right to be worried about shock. "So," she forced herself to ask. "Are either of you married?"