Opalescent Reflections
Interludes from the Black Pearl
Tairahana Plains and Kado-Guchi Valley, Luthien
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
5 December 3050
As he watched the command center bustle, Takashi Kurita tried to remember when he'd last commanded from a room like that. Not ten years ago, no. Nor in the Ronin War. There had been no threat to Luthien in either of those wars. He had received reports in the Black Room, buried deep beneath the palace, never needing the facilities to directly command the garrison.
It might have been since the last months of the Fourth Succession War, he thought. Unless you counted exercises intended to show off the garrison and keep some sharpness beneath the capital's polish, which he did not.
No, Takashi thought. I have not gone to war since I took charge of the frontlines in 3029. And now war has come looking for me.
The thought pleased the octogenarian. Close to five decades on the throne, but beneath it he was still the soldier of his youth. And it had come before he was unable to pilot a battlemech, which was a mercy.
The Coordinator of the Draconis Combine was drawn out of his reverie as one of the uniformed technicians - soldiers in their own way, he admitted - stood. "Sir. New arrivals at Point Ko."
The man was not looking at Takashi, all eyes went to his son. Theodore was either finally learning to hide surprise from his father or… the old man frowned. No, the boy expected this. (Man, he corrected himself. Theodore was not the eager child or rebellious youth any more). Good. Very good. Theodore was in his element, a superb general. If he fell short in other ways, there was always that.
The Gunji-no-Kanrei returned the technician's look. "Are they identified?"
"...yes."
"Then show us," Theodore said crisply. "Show us all."
The technician went to the controls and a moment later, the holo display brought up unit markers at the jump point. The room went dead quiet and now all eyes went to Takashi, who felt the blood thunder in his ears.
Them? Them now? The only thing that snapped him back from a red rage was the whiter fury that chilled his soul. Theodore had known! Theodore had known!
The old man did not take his eyes off the red and black markers, the colors of the Combine but used for very different heraldry. The Wolf Dragoons - Alpha Regiment, Zeta Battalion, the - damn her - Black Widow. And beside them, the Kell Hounds. On the rare occasions he had nothing else to do, Takashi sometimes debated which he hated more - the one who had humiliated him in front of the entire Inner Sphere, or the one who had destroyed his cousin.
When he was sure that nothing but steel would show on his face and voice, he asked: "You calculated for this."
He saw Theodore consider further explanation, but the boy - the man, damn him! - finally settled on a simple, "I did."
"Why don't you just shoot me?"
A pin could have dropped in the room and everyone would have heard it. That was not something that could be joked about. Unless, of course, you were him.
A rule Theodore broke, as he had so often. "Well, it seems rude to deny a mechwarrior of your caliber a chance to fight the Sharks."
Takashi drew back his lips from his teeth. "Your manners are shocking." And then, because there was nothing else he could do - save for a sin his wife would never forgive him for when they were reunited - he gestured towards the Kanrei's office. "Very well. You have had your fun. Now you will explain this to me properly. Without interruption or exception."
He turned and led his son to the side-room. No one could make him this angry. Not Kell. Not Wolf. Only his son. Only Jasmine's boy.
As tempting as it was to round on Theodore once the door closed, he instead simply laid claim to the seat behind the desk. "What do you intend with them?"
Lips quirked and then his son told him: "I will bleed them out fighting our enemies, praise them to the skies and use their service to justify hiring the mercenaries we desperately need."
That was… He shook his head. "You know why I gave orders on that matter."
"And perhaps at the time it was the correct choice," Theodore observed without any particular conviction. "But now? I have hidden none of our losses from you. And, win or lose, the price we pay here will add to that. Our numbers - particularly for battlemechs - are limited. Without mercenaries, the Combine may not survive. Against that, what does your pride matter?"
Takashi watched him levelly for a long moment and then nodded. "Perhaps you are ready to be Coordinator. I have my doubts, but I have trusted you thus far and you have not disappointed me recently. I make you no promises if I meet them though. Keep them away and know that none of the praises you would pay will be from me."
His boy smiled slightly "I know. The first real defensive line will be attacked soon, but it should hold long enough to move them forward to join the second. Meanwhile, your Dragon's Claws are our final reserve. Avoid them as they pass through to the battle and…" He shrugged. "Well, Jaime Wolf and Morgan Kell are fine mechwarriors, but neither is immortal."
"Wolf no." Takashi frowned. "Kell I am less certain of." Then a cheery thought struck him: of Clan warriors in their superior war machines trying to land shots on the phantom that was Morgan Kell. "Very well, boy. Carry on. I am an old man. I will take my rest until the two of them have gone west to join the battle. Tomorrow can wait until the next dawn."
6 December 3050
Khan Barbara Sennet watched the medical teams working, removing wounded warriors from their equipment so that technicians could begin work on recovering the battered equipment. A supernova trinary - fifteen omnimechs and seventy-five elementals - of the Sixth Strike Cluster had been reduced to a battered six Omnimechs and eight Elementals, all of them in need of repairs to their equipment.
"Your report," she asked calmly.
"My Khan, it would be easier to show you," the Star Colonel admitted, offering her a data chip. "The Star Captain's BattleROM, extracted from what is left of her cockpit."
Barbara gave him a look and decided that it was not an excuse. She accepted the chip and inserted it into hand comp, raising the device so she had a good look at the screen. The files had been annotated with a timestamp code, about two hours previous. Activating it, she saw what the Star Captain had from the cockpit of her Ice Ferret.
Ahead there were a mass of Inner Sphere battlemechs, more than thirty of them - reactors hot but holding position. Weapons fire began to lash out from either side, the range dropping rapidly as the Diamond Sharks rushed in, a text-book assault. The Combine mechwarriors held their ground - most 'mechs not even trying to evade. Barbara's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Even if she was not aware that this had been a trap, that should have been a warning.
What followed was a text-book close assault from a supernova trinary, the fast light and medium omnimechs closing in to deliver their Elemental comrades before they swept out to outflank the slower and more numerous enemies.
Unfortunately, someone appeared to have read the same text-book. The Elementals leapt into the thick of the enemy formation, taking advantage of the 'mechs that were immobile, and then, as the Ice Ferret turned away, torso twisting so that at least one arm's weapons could bear and the rear armor wasn't fully exposed, there were explosions and reports of leg damage.
A minefield covering the rear and flanks, Barbara noted. The defenders had held their position specifically to lure her warriors into it.
The Ice Ferret stumbled but the mechwarrior managed to keep it upright, limping clear with less agility than it should have had - ankle damage, most likely. Most of them were similarly damaged, one Fire Moth had fallen and didn't follow.
And then the DCMS 'mechs began to explode. Elementals were flung in all directions, sometimes missing limbs.
A handful of the heavier battlemechs continued to fight, armor damaged but still combat capable. The Star Captain was screaming orders, the fourteen remaining omnimechs no longer outnumbered but for the most part they had lost their speed advantage.
It was not a slaughter for either side… and on relatively even terms, the Diamond Sharks were winning before a battered UrbanMech in the red and grey of the Second Legion of Vega managed to score a hit on the Ice Ferret's cockpit with its autocannon and the recording came to an end.
Barbara took a moment to consider what she had seen. "The false 'mechs?" she enquired.
"As far as we can tell, agromech chassis with armor plating to give them the appearance of battlemechs," the Star Colonel explained. "Between the armor and the chassis they packed explosives… You saw the result."
"Aff. And the aftermath?"
"A battalion of Combine tanks tried to close in to support the actual battlemechs - fortunately, an aerospace star was close enough to pin them at choke points until reinforcements could arrive." The officer regained a little of his swagger. "They were torn apart of course."
The Khan considered that and then turned to the senior medic. "What are the losses?"
"We were fortunate, there are only seventeen fatalities among the elementals and three among the mechwarriors."
She shook her head. "And how many will be fit for battle in the next forty-eight hours?" Barbara doubted any would be fit without at least some rest - and that assumed that their wargear would be repaired by then.
The medic checked her notes. "That soon? Eight mechwarriors, including those still active and thirteen elementals. The others will mostly be fit to return to battle in weeks, not days." She shook her head. "It is likely some will never return to combat status."
The supernova trinary, a sixth of the entire Cluster, was effectively out of the battle for Luthien. It had cost the DCMS some time and effort, a company of 'mechs and a battalion of tanks. That was an unsupportable exchange, Barbara concluded.
"Circulate instructions to the touman to be wary of such traps," she instructed her aide. "It is unlikely that the same will be tried again, it is too obvious once we know what to look for. But it is the mindset we must be wary of,"
Victory in battle, she had been taught, was much like victory in commerce. One must comprehend the mind that one faced across the battlefield. Barbara admitted that such empathy did not come easily to her, it was a skill she had to hone - but the rewards when she managed it had proved that the lesson was true.
Now she thought she had some understanding of the mind across the battlefield.
And she disliked what she saw, as much as she admired the ruthlessness of it.
"How are your munition expenditures?" she asked the Star Colonel. "Proportionate to projections."
"Uh," the man hesitated - in thought, not obfuscation. "I do not have an exact number without checking. Higher by twenty or thirty percent depending on type, as of this morning."
"I suspected as much." Barbara nodded crisply. This was a battle of attrition. A missile fired that hit a worthless target, a 'mech or warrior disabled just long enough that they could not contribute further to this battle. Diversion after barrier after ambush - the Diamond Shark path was predictable and the enemy desired to slow them down, to cost them just enough that it was unacceptable to continue.
She turned sharply and walked away, gesturing to her aide. "Instructions to all technicians in the force," she told him abruptly.
"My Khan." The young warrior had a noteputer ready.
"All omnimechs returned for repair are to be switched to loadouts favoring energy weapons wherever the available pods allow. This is my order, overriding the preferences of individual warriors. I will allow exceptions for Streak launchers and Gauss Rifles." The former rarely wasted shots, and the latter's ammunition was ludicrously easy to replace. "This battle will be won through endurance, and the touman's - neg. The clan's success will rest upon the efforts of our technicians as much it does on the warrior. The enemy believes that their technicians can keep their warriors in the field longer than we can do the same - I know that like our merchants and our warriors, our technicians are second to none. I have faith that they will carry the Diamond Sharks to victory, as they have before." She paused. "Repeat that for me."
The aide complied and Barbara considered her own words. Not really an inspiring speech worthy of a great Khan… but it conveyed her message. "Send it," she instructed and headed back to her 'mech. Reports indicated that elements of the Wolf Dragoons had begun skirmishing with the advance and with Gamma Galaxy in the lead today, she wanted to be available to coordinate the push past Basin Lake.
7 December 3050
Morgan Kell was feeling his age as he moved his Archer carefully through the marked paths through the forward resupply base. He'd spent the night here, with technicians working through the night to repair damage taken the previous day, returned partway through the day to reload and now he was back for the same purpose.
As the rest of Second Battalion, First Kell Hounds filed into the camp, the old mechwarrior was the only one who followed the paddle signals from men and women on the ground to go directly to ammunition stores. Everyone else was directed towards the repair bays - little more than scaffolding where the technicians drafted from Luthien Armor Works could cut away damaged armor plates and weld new ones into place - or to the monorail station that anchored the entire facility, where the worst damaged 'mechs would be moved back towards the city.
There were fewer trucks and loader mechs than he remembered from earlier. He saw one of the latter bustling towards the monorail carrying a pallet of repair tools and realized that the most valuable equipment was being removed before the site was abandoned.
At the current pace of fighting, the Diamond Sharks would be into the Kadoguchi Valley by morning.
"No damage again, Tai-sa Kell?" one of the technicians enquired respectfully through a loudhailer.
Morgan thumbed his own speakers. "None." He wasn't completely sure that the man even knew that the Kell Hounds were mercenaries and not simply some obscure DCMS command. The Combine tended to tell their people only what they needed to know, and the tale of he and Yorinaga Kurita's duels was not one that reflected well on House Kurita.
"Fantastic! I am sure you have defeated many of the invaders!" the young man called brightly. "Bay three please. We shall have a full missile load waiting for you."
Morgan checked the cheatsheet he'd taped to one of his consoles and then moved towards the light framework marked with the japanese glyph for three. Far more fragile than that used in the repair bays, it served only to support a canvas cover that sheltered the 'mech from the sun (and aerial surveillance) as they were worked on.
Opening the loading ports for his missile launchers, Morgan took his hands off the controls and leant back in the chair.
It was a curious experience leading the Kell Hounds into battle again. Particularly with Christian leading First Battalion - his nephew reminded him so much of Patrick that sometimes Morgan felt as if it was the 3010s again, with his brother alongside him.
Of course, back then they had never even met Akira Brahe, the current regimental commander. And they had been facing very different foes. But still… it was comforting in a way. A touchstone as he walked through the battlefields, firing into the Diamond Sharks while barely ever having to worry about being shot at. He suspected most of them thought he was some sort of decoy, given how few fired at him.
And none had struck home.
His comrades, his officers, his friends. Those who followed him paid the price, but never him.
Perhaps it was out of guilt that he had refrained from taking any kills, instead using his LRMs and lasers to soften up enemy 'mechs that were already engaged, softening them up so that his Kell Hounds could finish them.
Objectively he knew that the Kell Hounds were doing well, but the data on his command monitor was a reminder that out of the more than seventy mechwarriors in First and Second Battalions, more than a fifth would never return to Arc-Royal. As many more were wounded to the point they'd been evacuated.
And he was doing all this for a Kurita. The same one who had treated Yorinaga so abominably for over a decade and then hurled him like a guided missile at the Kell Hounds.
At two removes, Morgan reminded himself. It was Akira who had requested permission to take the Kell Hounds to answer the request from his cousin - and it was Takashi's son who'd made the request, not the Coordinator himself. And besides the request coming from a friend of twenty years, there had been the less worthy reason: a desire to strike back at the Clans who had taken away Phelan and so many other Kell Hounds almost a year ago. There was hope that some of them were still alive, but God only knew their condition.
The graying mercenary exhaled slowly and was about to reach into one of the lockers for an MRE when he spotted an ammo truck crawling up behind the Archer. The little tracked vehicle was little more than a flatbed with an engine and a small cab, most of its volume taken up by several tons of LRMs stacked neatly on the bed.
"Tai-sa, we will begin loading now," the leader of the work crew announced. "This humble servant requests that you refrain from moving your great battlemech while we serve you."
"...understood." He would comply, but damned if he would ever truly understand the Combine, Morgan thought. The Kell Hounds technicians never spoke to him so subserviently and he'd have words with any mechwarrior that expected them to. They were in the repair bays though, supporting the LAW teams who were - for all their skills - a little unfamiliar with battlefield triage.
The workers behind his 'mech knew their business though and case after case of LRMs was lifted by a cherry picker to dump its contents into the deep bins that fuelled the primary weapons of the Archer. The familiar thunk-thunk-thunk sound was followed by the ammunition counter jumping up by three missiles every time. Over a hundred and fifty such cases would be would be needed, but they were small enough to be manhandled in the field without the more powerful cranes and equipment of a proper 'mech bay.
The munitions were half-loaded and Morgan was close to dozing off when a shrill alert cut through the temptation to close his eyes. "Incoming!" Christian Kell screamed on the tactical channel - something only done in the direst emergencies while in a repair base.
Morgan jerked forwards, automatically bringing up his sensors. For a moment there was nothing and then the radar usually used for picking up inbound missiles painted the source of the alarm. "Take cover!" Morgan shouted to the workers outside.
A second later, artillery shells reached the line of loading facilities and detonated five metres above the ground. A mix of incendiary and high explosive shells spread devastation through canvas and scaffolding. One of them was near enough to make Morgan's ears ring.
Then the ammunition truck behind him went up, dozens of missiles struck by redhot shrapnel or white-hot phosphorus.
More than two tons of missiles blew up in a cascade that lasted less than a second. The work crew were obliterated.
And at least one some of the debris found the open loading port on the back of Morgan's Archer. One moment he was in his cockpit and the next the ejection seat was hurling him away from the fireball that had been seventy tons of battlemech.
The canvas cover above his 'mech was ripped from the scaffolding by the ejection seat, but with it wrapped around him, the parachute failed to deploy.
Morgan Kell, commander of the Kell Hounds, had just enough time to commend his soul to the almighty, before he hit the ground head-first at terminal velocity.
8 December 3050
The flight to meet the Diamond Sharks had been circuitous and was fraught with risks. Both sides had issued writs of safe passage, but both had also been plain that there were a large number of armed combatants who would be more likely to fire at an unfamiliar helicopter before thinking to ask about any such authorization.
As such, it took Andrew Norris most of a day to reach the encampment serving as the Diamond Sharks forward command base - a mix of tents, vans and prefab structures that would probably disintegrate into disaster if one of the DCMS' remaining artillery batteries managed to get into range. The Precentor for Luthien's HPG station had seen such encampments during his time in the ComGuards and suspected the Combine wouldn't hesitate to do so regardless of his august presence, and hoped that didn't happen until he was gone.
As he was escorted to the Khan's command post, Andrew saw a dispersed circle of ten self-propelled guns, still wearing DCMS livery other than a Diamond Shark and a yellow bird painted where the dragon of House Kurita had once marked them. "I was not aware that the Clans employed artillery," he observed to the leader of his escort, who had not shared his name.
The elemental, out of armor and with bandages visible under his field uniform grunted noncommittally before admitting. "It usually gets bid away. It is not a prized assignment."
Andrew scanned the unit again, picking out that most of the crew wore the badges of Diamond Shark technicians not warriors. His ears pricked up as he heard one swearing in japanese while he worked at clearing debris from the tracks. The Clans to his understanding, had abolished all languages save for their allegedly pure dialect of Star League era English. That man must be a Combine native. That was… worrying.
"Why the yellow birds?" he asked instead.
"Unit marking." The hulking warrior didn't even look over. "Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster, newly formed. Does it matter?"
"The yellow bird has a certain significance to Draconian culture," Andrew explained blandly. "It is said to be the one creature that a Dragon cannot defeat."
The elemental appeared skeptical. "A little yellow bird?"
"Oh yes. You must have bondsmen you can ask."
That got a grunt. "Spheroids are strange. A green falcon, maybe, but the badge looks like a canary. How does that defeat a dragon?"
Andrew smiled slightly. "Because it does not fight on the dragon's terms." That might be a lesson the Clans were learning already. They were superb at set-piece battles, by all accounts, but it was a rare world they occupied that did not have some level of insurgency. And with essentially every major combat unit committed to Luthien, garrison units had to deal with that unsupported.
They left the artillery battery behind and reached a field kitchen that was serving hot food - it looked as if most of it had been scavenged from the various small settlements on the Tairahana plain rather than brought along. "I seek the Khan," the elemental boomed.
A lean young man looked up from where he was spooning food up from a bowl. It was only when he turned that Andrew saw the blue diamond on his collar had four stars, marking him as a senior officer. It seemed implausible that that could be right - Andrew had junior acolytes who looked older - but then he spotted the two swords resting at the man's side.
"Round the back," Ace Enders informed the elemental. He nodded to Andrew and then went back to his food.
Blake help us, Andrew thought. That is the one who killed their Khan. Who killed the Coordinator's grandson, Theodore Kurita's son. If they knew he was here they'd pop a missile or two at the camp just on the chance of getting lucky!
The elemental must have noticed the look he was giving Enders. It seemed to amuse the giant. "You are more afraid of him than you are of me?"
"If that is who I think it is, then he has quite the reputation."
"Bah." The elemental gestured to the back of the kitchens. "This way. He would not offend your superiors by killing you."
"And you would?"
"I might turn around too quickly and crush you." Then the wounded infantryman started to laugh at his own joke.
At the rear of the kitchen, the same heaters that were preparing food were heating water for showers and the elemental cut through a line of only partly-clad soldiers towards a woman who was emerging from one of the cubicles, carrying a small bag of toiletries but otherwise as naked as the moment of her birth. "Khan Sennet."
The woman - it was impossible for Andrew not to see that she was in fine shape, although she must be at least his own age - turned. "Point Commander."
"You have a guest."
Sennet glanced past the man and saw Andrew. Utterly unembarrassed by her state of dress, she nodded. "Precentor. You made better time than expected." Walking over to a nearby table she picked up a mechwarrior cooling suit, visibly sweat stained from what must have been days of use and started pulling it on. "Have you seen what you wanted of our camp?"
"...I am here to discuss the security of our HPG station during the fighting," Andrew told her.
"That could have been done by radio," she pointed out reasonably. "ComStar deals in information. You came here to gather it."
"To an extent. But it is also true that a personal meeting can convey more information than a radio conversation."
Sennet stepped into the suit's legs, leaning on the table as she did so. "And I allowed you to come here. Sometimes sharing information yields dividends."
She knows how the game is played, Andrew thought. "I hope that we are both satisfied by that. However it remains true that our facilities in and near the Imperial City are not as distinct as enclaves on other worlds and I would prefer we both know where the lines are - so that our neutrality is respected."
"Then I hope you brought a map," Sennet told him "For some strange reason, the Combine seems not to have left any street maps of their capital where we can find them…"
9 December 3050
For the first time since they landed, the Diamond Sharks had paused their relentless advance on the Imperial City, less than sixty kilometers from the final defensive line. Some of the more optimistic thought that it might mean that they had reached the end of their resources… but wiser minds knew better.
Scout reports had confirmed it: the Sharks had a strong screening force out but otherwise they were resting and feeding their troops, bringing forward repaired battlemechs and warriors who had recovered from earlier injuries. When dawn came, they would launch their final attack.
And Theodore Kurita could see the sun's light in the east.
"What are the latest estimates of their operational strength," he asked quietly, turning his back on the sun.
Oleg Hrolfsen, the grizzled Rasalhaguan who had left his homeworld to remain in service to the ISF, shook his head. "Including their screening forces? We make it eight Clusters - somewhat understrength, but basically intact fighting groups. We expect six of them to move up today."
"Could be better," Theodore allowed without letting his voice betray that his plan had failed. Ideally, the attrition of day after day of fighting should have worn down the Diamond Sharks to the point that they didn't have cohesive units. All data suggested that the Clans almost never fought engagements that lasted more than a few hours.
But ignoring the facts would be fatal. Even if those six clusters were somewhat depleted, he would need that many brigades of troops to have a good chance. Eight or nine would be better.
"Our own forces?" he asked, hoping that something had changed since the last update.
Kiyomori Minamoto - one of his father's traditionalists but capable enough as a mechwarrior to have survived where other commanders had not - squared his shoulders. "I have twelve companies of the Sword of Light moving out as we speak." The remains of three times as many, but that could be worse. Some of the mechwarriors were equipped with 'mechs fresh from the assembly that hadn't quite been ready by the time the Diamond Sharks landed. Hopefully they wouldn't be too far short of being fit for use.
"Good," Theodore approved. "I will join you, with the Otomo." All three of the surviving mechwarriors. There had been a breakthrough by Alpha Galaxy forty-eight hours ago that threatened to cross into the Kado-Guchi Valley before the defense lines there had fully reorganized with the troops that had pulled back. The Otomo had held the entirety of Alpha Galaxy back for three critical hours… but the cost had been their annihilation.
He turned to Benji Itemji, his other remaining Tai-sa. "Your own forces?"
"Ten companies," the commander of the Eighteenth Dieron Regulars answered. "I had to mix and match Hussars and Legionaires with my men, but there is enough trust between them now. We have bled enough." He didn't mention them moving out - except for Itemji himself, they had been the picket force overnight, sleeping in shifts. "With your permission."
"Go join them," Theodore noted. He turned to the last of the three men who made up his senior leadership. Jaime Wolf was listening to an ear bud and raised his hand for silence before the Gunji-no-Kanrei could ask.
"I understand," the mercenary said after a moment. He turned to Theodore. "Colonel Jamison reports an assault formation moving up on the line. He is taking Zeta Battalion to meet them."
Itemji yanked the door open and ran for his 'mech. Before the door slammed shut behind him, the boom of artillery could be heard.
Theodore bowed slightly towards Jaime Wolf. "It is an honor to fight alongside you."
"I have four companies, more or less," the older man told him. "No contact with Natasha or her command since yesterday - but with landlines wrecked and all the jamming, that doesn't mean much." Air strikes had been hitting key communication nodes all of yesterday - the Black Widows weren't the only unit out of contact.
Knowing that his composure was all that held the defenders together, Theodore turned to the other officers present. "All infantry are to stand to, all tank battalions are clear to engage at their own discretion. Does anyone have a feed." He started unbuttoning his uniform tunic to replace it with a cooling vest.
By the time he had the vest on, the holodisplay had a visual. Theodore had never seen the 'mechs approaching before but it was clear from the way they shook off the bombardment from his remaining artillery that they were assault weights.
"Wakazashi," Wolf murmured.
"Pardon?" Theodore asked, touching the hilt of the shorter sword at his belt.
"A 'mech - obsolete among the Clans. A Storm Giant behind it, I think. And is that a Thunder Stallion? I think it is - where did the Sharks dig that up?"
"I thought it might be the Twenty-First Assault Cluster," Theodore observed.
"No," the mercenary said. "This is that scratch galaxy - Kappa - their assault formation. Those are garrison 'mechs."
"Assault mechs in a garrison unit?" asked a tank officer.
Wolf shrugged. "They aren't Omnimechs. Most of them are a couple of hundred years old."
Theodore's first actual battlemech had been an Orion built in the twenty-eighth century. "No less dangerous though."
The perspective swung wildly and more assault 'mechs began to pour onto the battlefield - these ones bearing the wolfshead badge of the Wolf Dragoons. The designs were more familiar to Theodore, though he knew they had been heavily upgraded with Star League technology. Stalkers, Awesomes, Victors, a few of the more unusual 'mechs fielded only by the Dragoons and that he now knew were very early Clan designs, before they had reached their level of technology.
Tens of thousands of tons of Battlemechs smashed into each other with all the subtlety of sledgehammers being swung at each other. The Diamond Shark 'mechs were scarred and battered from the attack, but Zeta Battalion were scarcely better - either their repairs had not been completed or the Sharks' own artillery battery had found their range already.
For a long moment, Theodore watched in fascination as the giants tore at each other - and everything in their paths - and then the first flare of a fusion reactor melting everything around it brought him back to his senses.
"Send instructions to LAW, Buda Weapons and BBP to complete the prepping to demolish their facilities," he ordered. "I am formally authorizing to commence demolition on local authority if the Imperial City falls."
There was an intake of breath.
Theodore looked around. "Purge our databases here and evacuate the facility. We're in range for them to attempt a headhunter strike." He paused. "And inform my father that my intention is to pin the Diamond Sharks in place along the line. I want him to bring his Dragon Claws in en masse to try to smash them with local superiority." His father would never let him live this down, but it was the only card he had left to play.
Minamoto opened the door again and Theodore followed him out. Jaime Wolf was right behind them and without another word the mercenary headed for his Archer.
A mass of red-painted battlemechs of the Sword of Light were already moving from their muster points towards the sound of the guns. Theodore went to his own Hatamoto-chi, still in the gray-and-red of the Legion of Vega, with the black Otomo 'mechs stood guarding it. Slinging his swords over his shoulder, Theodore began scaling his 'mech.
Clever strategy had failed, so all that remained was to gamble everything on valor. The cost of failure would be everything - or nearly so.
His 'mech had long been refitted with a rear seat for an operator to help him control a battle as well as his 'mech. Theodore was pleased to see that the seat was occupied already as he reached the cockpit. He was less pleased when he saw who occupied it.
Tomoe gave him a challenging look and her husband decided he had enough foes already today. "Together then," he said and began strapping himself in.