SNOWBIRD'S BATTALION REMIXED
Book II of the Snowbirds Saga
By Sentinel 28II
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE: It is November 3050. After the triple blows of the Inner Sphere victories on Wolcott and Twycross, and the death of the ilKhan to Tyra Miraborg's suicide run at Radstadt, the Clan invasion has halted. Always one to take advantage of an injured foe, Prince Hanse Davion has ordered the AFFC to go on the offensive wherever possible. The first target is Planting, the lead regiment, the battered but still proud Sentinels.
Sheila Arla-Vlata is part of this offensive. She and Maximillian Canis-Vlata have secretly been engaged, but neither have found an appropriate time to tell their parents. She has no idea what awaits her on Planting…
Duranter River Hills
Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
13 November 3050
Calla Bighorn-Vlata drummed his fingers on the armrest of his Battlemaster impatiently. Unable to wait any longer, he keyed the radio. "Tigerstripe Six from Sentinel Actual. What the hell is the holdup down there?"
"Sentinel Actual, Tigerstripe Six," Major Marion Rhialla shot back. "I am going as fast as I can. It's not my fault I can get out and run faster than this 'Mech. With all due respect, clear the fucking channel or come down here and relieve me." If a radio channel could click off angrily, Marion achieved it.
Calla laughed to himself. Marion had a point, and it was not like she was being slow on purpose. She was also one of the few company commanders in the Sentinels that could get away with talking to him like that. He leaned back in the ejection seat. After all, he thought, it wasn't like he was in that much of a hurry. The Jade Falcons already knew where the Sentinels were going.
It was the third day of the Planting campaign, and it was a beautiful late summer day. Though the Inner Sphere used the standard Terra calendar, when it was November on the center of the Inner Sphere, it didn't mean it was winter in the far-flung systems extending out hundreds of light years from humanity's homeworld. Planting was aptly named in any case: a fertile planet with generally temperate seasons, and some of the best soil in the Federated Commonwealth: locals claimed that one could plant a two-by-four wooden plank in the ground and it would grow. It was deep enough in the former Lyran Commonwealth to have escaped most of the ravages of the Succession Wars, as it had been far from the Kurita frontier. It unfortunately had been in the path of the Clan invasion, and the Jade Falcons had struck the planet in July 3050. The defending 41st Avalon Hussars had made the Clan attackers pay for it, forcing them to fight into Planting's main cities, the Dantron-Sontor-Belex Tri-Cities. The Jade Falcons had taken Planting, forcing the 41st to retreat, but the Avalon Hussars had left behind enough soldiers to organize a resistance movement in the mountains. That was one of several reasons the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth, ably assisted by the Junior Officers' Strategy Group, had identified Planting as a possible place to launch a counterattack against the Clans.
After the victory on Twycross, Prince Hanse Davion was not one to rest on the laurels of the Federated Commonwealth's first win against the mysterious Clans. Planting would be assaulted only a month after Twycross had. Much to Calla Bighorn-Vlata's surprise, he was picked to command the assault force by Marshal of the Armies Morgan Hasek-Davion. Since Twycross had shown that overwhelming force was needed to take a planet back from the Clans, two and a half regiments were assigned to hit Planting: the 20th Arcturan Guards, the 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalion of the Eridani Light Horse, and Calla's own regiment, the Sentinels. The latter had finally made good its losses from its first brush with the Jade Falcons on Persistence earlier in the year. Calla wasn't sure why Hasek-Davion chose a somewhat obscure mercenary commander with no particular pedigree to command an entire invasion force, but Calla was honored all the same. Of course, Calla thought, maybe it's easier to hang a nobody if it fails.
When the invasion force had arrived insystem, the Jade Falcons had politely inquired who was invading Planting. To Calla's surprise, the man commanding the Clan forces onplanet was no less than saKhan Cavell Malthus, the one he had faced on Persistence—and lost to. The two men exchanged pleasantries, with Malthus offering his congratulations on Twycross, Calla thinking that two men who intended to kill the other one could be rather polite before the killing started. Calla followed what Malthus called batchall, and stated honestly what forces he was bringing. Malthus answered equally honestly: Planting was defended by the Choyer Garrison Cluster, the 133rd Falcon Fusiliers, and the Jade Falcon Keshik, Malthus' own command. That left numbers a lot more even than Calla liked, but it wasn't as if he was turning around and heading home.
So far, Calla admitted as he raised binoculars to his eyes to watch Rhialla's assault, the invasion had actually gone well. Since they had experience now, he had kept his team of pathfinders together: Elfa Brownoak's Royal Glosters, Philip Scott's Royal Green Jackets, and his daughter Sheila Arla-Vlata's 13th Light Dragoons. He had originally intended them to try a combat drop from high atmosphere, but the threat of Jade Falcon fighters and the utter terror he had seen on Sheila's face—one which she had unsuccessfully tried to hide—made him change it to a swift dustoff landing instead. The pathfinders hadn't been attacked, and the landings were made at Gray Bay on Planting's southern subcontinent, Dumbarton, without incident. Once the subcontinent was secure, the 50th Heavy Cavalry would reinforce the Sentinels, using the subcontinent as a base. In the meantime, the 20th Arcturan had landed on the narrow Tel Akbir Peninsula, northeast of the Tri-Cities, to force Malthus to split his force.
Calla scanned the ground beneath him. His command group stood on a ridge of the Gray Hills, which fell gently down to the Duranter Valley and the river that bore the same name. On the other side of the river, the hills rose again and gently rolled north over the horizon to the city of Fairfields. It sat on the shore of Blackett Strait, and beyond that was Planting's main continent, the Tri-Cities, and the end of the campaign. If all went well, they might be done by Christmas. Calla shook his head at that: no campaign was ever finished by Christmas.
The Duranter River meandered out of the high purple mountains to the east, the Dunbarton Alps. The largest bridge in the area—one reinforced for 'Mech travel—lay directly in front of him, at the village of Horatius. West of the village was a forest called Pascia Grove. If Calla got the Sentinels across the Duranter River, then there was no other good defensive ground between here and the coast. Calla knew that Cavell Malthus knew the same thing, given the opposition they were now facing.
A sudden explosion drew Calla's eyes. He moved the binoculars over in that direction, but could see only dust and haze. The radio crackled to life. "Tigerstripe Six, Gaul Six." Calla recognized the voice of Leonard Shingo, Rhialla's scout lance commander. "Enemy contact front. Appears to be light 'Mechs." Calla leaned forward without realizing it. Shingo's Gaul lance was light—two Locusts, a Firestarter and a Spider. Against Inner Sphere light 'Mechs, that was a fair fight. Against Clan light OmniMechs, Shingo was in trouble.
"Gaul Six, Tigerstripe. Fall back. I'll come up to support." The wind blew the dust away, and Calla saw Rhialla's command lance moving forward. It was the most advanced unit in the Sentinels, and one of the heaviest: in the lead was Rhialla and her lancemate Alfred Dennison's monster Palladiums, a homegrown design based off the King Crab that armed twin Gauss Rifles and a PPC, backed up by a Warhammer and a Crusader.
"Tigerstripe Six, Gaul Six. Four lights, cannot identify, but they're backed up by a Rifleman—" There was a pop of static. "Whoops, that's not a Rifleman. Bastard just shot at me with a Gauss Rifle."
"Gaul Six, I see the son of a bitch," Rhialla replied. "Get out of there; let's see how he likes one back."
Calla looked north of the bridge. There were more 'Mechs moving there, and if Malthus had moved up heavies, even second-line ones, it might be more than Rhialla's company could handle. Calla switched frequencies. "Musketeer Six, Sentinel Actual. Fire mission, grid square 20-11. Walk your rounds north, and do not short round and hit the bridge. No friendlies in area. Fire when ready."
"Sentinel Actual, roger!" That voice belonged to the Sentinels' artillery commander, a young, flamboyant former Davion nobleman named Ramirez d'Argentan. D'Argentan had walked away from a life of comfort to command a mercenary regiment's tiny detachment of four Sniper self-propelled artillery pieces, all because his father had not wanted him to serve. "Shot out!" Calla, even through the Battlemaster's windscreen, could hear the freight train noise of the shells passing over his position, and raised his binoculars again.
A single gout of dirt and smoke rose north of the bridge, perfectly on target. "Musketeer, Actual. On target. Fire for effect." D'Argentan fired each Sniper four times, sweating crews loading the heavy artillery shells into the guns. Each fell among the 'Mechs, with a few detonating above ground to kill any infantry.
Calla returned his radio to Rhialla's frequency, and was rewarded with a high-pitched squeal overlaid with a thick buzzing. Clanners are jamming us. Rhialla can take that attack in, but I want to listen in. He switched to a new frequency and found that to be clear. "Centurion Six, Sentinel Actual. Can you see Tigerstripe?"
"Negative, Actual," Gnea Carabinera replied. "Heavy jamming. Permission to commit my company."
Calla didn't reply at first, checking the battlefield. Rhialla's attack was part of the understrength Ceta Battalion, with Beta in support; Alpha Battalion held the flank at Pascia Grove. "Permission granted, Centurion." Carabinera's company was the Sentinels' urban fighting specialists; Horatius wasn't a large town, but they knew how to fight in the tight confines of a town or city. He watched Carabinera's company of mediums move forward to support Rhialla and Shingo. Still need eyes on the ground. I can't see what's going on; there's too much smoke. And I can't hear, either. We need Rhialla to switch freqs. Calla looked to his left, and touched the radio button. "Alpha Charlie Six, Sentinel Actual. I need you to find Tigerstripe and tell her to switch her frequency to Battle Two, and tell her to take the bridge if possible. Just yourself, not your lance."
"Sentinel Actual, roger that; on my way." Calla watched as Sheila Arla-Vlata—his daughter—moved her Shruiken out of line and headed down the hill. I'm sending my daughter to fight. God knows she's had plenty of it, but it's still not right. He watched her go, then checked in with his cousin Mira Canis-Vlata, who commanded Alpha. Her sector was quiet, at least. He returned his attention to Sheila, and wondered if Cavell Malthus had any children.
Sheila Arla-Vlata stepped down on the foot pedals and ran her Shruiken up to full speed, which wasn't particularly impressive, except that she was sitting atop a 75-ton BattleMech, towering two stories over the countryside. Her Alpha/4 company was in reserve with the command group, and she didn't mind in the least. Planting was her fourth campaign in six months: she had gotten the hell scared out of her in her first battle on Persistence, nearly gotten killed on Rasalhague, nearly gotten court-martialed on Blackjack, and barely survived Twycross. It made her one of the most experienced MechWarriors in the entire AFFC, but it also meant that she could handle a stint in reserve. She had more than her fill of Clan warriors trying to kill her.
The Shruiken hit a rough spot of ground and rocked for a moment, but Sheila, with the reflexes of a veteran, easily compensated. She felt something hit her cooling vest and glanced down, then smiled. Hanging from her neck on a thin chain was an engagement ring. She didn't wear it on her fingers because there was always the chance it would snag on a switch or something. The ring wasn't fancy, but it had been all Max Canis-Vlata could afford on a mercenary Lance Commander's salary. Normally, she kept it tucked beneath her shirt: their engagement was still secret, as both were afraid of their parents finding out—though neither had any idea why they were being so secretive. Alone in her cockpit, Sheila wore it openly as a reminder. Max had asked for her hand in marriage—with a little encouragement from Sheila herself—on Twycross the month before. Both had been stark naked at the time, but Sheila didn't mind, and neither did Max.
Sheila shook herself out of her reverie. I might be just the courier, but the Clans will shoot me all the same. She was coming up to the rear of Carabinera's Beta/3 company, made up of mostly mediums and light 'Mechs; in the lead was Carabinera's command lance, made up entirely of Centurions. Sheila raised the Shruiken's weapon arm in salute as she went by, but suddenly had to slow down as Carabinera's Centurion swerved in front of her. "Alpha Charlie Six, Centurion Six. Where are you going?" Carabinera fairly snarled at her.
"Centurion Six, Sentinel Actual sent me to check with Tigerstripe Six. He wants her to switch freqs because of the jamming."
The Centurion moved out of the way. "On your way, Alpha Charlie, and my apologies. Thought you were trying to play hero again."
Sheila didn't acknowledge, just kept moving. Bitch, she thought. If I live to be forty like Gnea and I'm that fucking crotchety, I hope someone shoots me. Not everyone had accepted Sheila's rank, commanding a company at 19 years old. It had taken Carabinera fifteen years to reach that rank. She knew that there were also some that blamed Sheila for Mimi Stykkis' crippling on Rasalhague. I was just trying to save Mimi's life, Sheila thought morosely, and some people wished I had left her for Clan Wolf. For all the good it did her. Mimi would never walk again. She had refused to communicate with Sheila. Of course, Carabinera had a rather dim view of anyone who wasn't in her company. What's with these old bitches of the Sentinels? Elfa Brownoak and Mira Canis-Vlata aren't nasty. Everyone's got the damn rag on today, I swear.
Sheila reached the town, and found it to have little damage; the Jade Falcons had not contested Horatius. She checked her sensors: it showed a mass of blue returns ahead of her, along with the red of confirmed enemy contacts. Evidently the Clan warriors were making their stand at the bridge approaches. As she drew closer, she saw Sentinel infantry moving forward, taking up positions, but not getting in the middle of the 'Mech fight. Now buildings and homes showed damage, and quite a few fires were burning.
She reached the bridge approaches, and saw the bridge itself. It was wide and flat, a four-lane highway crossing the wide Duranter River, a massively reinforced bridge that could even handle the weight of several assault 'Mechs. Next to it was a parallel maglev line, but only light 'Mechs could negotiate that. The road was pitted and scarred from hits, and Sheila could see three 'Mechs down. One was a Locust, completely immolated with fire, but the other two were Clan OmniMechs, what the Inner Sphere had codenamed a Puma and an Uller. She passed two other Sentinel 'Mechs limping to the rear. The rest of the Sentinels were on line at the bridge, using river warehouses and the bridge approaches' thick supports as cover. The Jade Falcons had evidently pulled back across the bridge, because she saw no enemy 'Mechs, though occasionally missile fire landed near her, lofted from across the bridge. She spotted Rhialla's massive Palladium, its torso moving back and forth, the Gauss Rifles' barrels looking for targets. She sent a short-ranged tightbeam message to the assault 'Mech, which the Clans could not jam. "Tigerstripe Six, Alpha Charlie Six relay from Sentinel Actual."
"Alpha Charlie Six, Tigerstripe. Go."
"Need you to switch to new freq Battle Two. The Clans have Battle One jammed up. Battle Two is 120.6."
"Roger, will do. Pass on this sitrep: we're doing just fine. One 'Mech down, but clean ejection, and I've got two damaged. Got four kills, though, and the Falcons have fallen back across the river." Suddenly one Gauss Rifle barked, the barrel going back and sending a tungsten shell hypersonically across the river. "Dammit, missed."
"Four kills, Tigerstripe?" Sheila questioned; she'd only seen the two.
"The other two are in the river, Alpha Charlie."
"Oh…roger."
Rhialla laughed. "They're arrogant bastards, these Jade Falcons. The lights tried to take my command lance on, calling us out and challenging us, fighting one on one. Idiots."
"They didn't try to contest this side of the river too hard, Tigerstripe," Sheila observed, then almost slapped herself. She had just explained the situation to a woman who had been in combat nearly twice as long as Sheila had been alive.
Rhialla, surprisingly, didn't seem to take offense. "Concur, Alpha Charlie. Look, we got some ID on these people. It's the 133rd Falcon Fusiliers, the same bunch we faced on Persistence. That's what I've got in front of me. Let the Old Man know."
"Roger, understood. Need anything else?"
"Negative, not with Centurion Six on her way. The arty helps keep those little Toad bastards from trying anything, though. Tell Actual that's a nice touch. I hate those little fuckers."
Sheila found herself grinning; Rhialla's enthusiasm was infectious. "Roger, Tigerstripe. Heading back now."
"Roger. Will switch freqs. Tell Centurion Six that she's a crosseyed stupid bitch that couldn't hit an Atlas if it was standing in front of her. Word for word—that's an order, Alpha Charlie."
Sheila acknowledged, grinning; Carabinera and Rhialla had a mostly friendly rivalry. She backed the Shruiken up and began to head back. As she passed Carabinera's Centurion, she passed on the message. The older woman just laughed. "Alpha Charlie, Tigerstripe's one to talk. Tell her next time that she needs to quit hiding in an assault; she needs to pilot a medium like a real MechWarrior." She said it on the open company channel, and Sheila heard the other MechWarriors laughing. As she headed back for her own company, it amazed her what people could find funny in the middle of a battle.
Sheila reached her father's position and tightbeamed a message to him with Rhialla's situation report. Calla seemed pleased with it. "Nice work, Alpha Charlie. We'll see if they try to attack across the bridge, chew that up, and take the bridge. Did you see any Clanners yourself?"
"Negative, Actual; not live ones, anyway. The other side of the river is too built up and there was too much smoke."
"Very well—well, here we go." Sheila turned her 'Mech around and saw the Jade Falcon attack begin. She could see them racing across the bridge now, some riding silvery spears of jumpjets. Laser beams began to crisscross each other, finding targets, punctuated by the bright blue of PPC shots and missile smoke. She couldn't hear it from almost three kilometers away, but Calla called in artillery again. She looked up, but the blue sky was clear. If the fighters were having an air battle, they were being quiet about it. At the bridge, the Falcons were getting the worse of it: their opponents had good cover and fire superiority, for once. It was clear, Sheila thought, that the Clan commander had thought he or she was facing only a single Sentinel company; now they were fighting two, with artillery support.
"Ha!" Calla crowed on the open channel. "Best fucking ground for kilometers, and the stupid ass is hitting me with one company. Lovely. Lovely."
Sheila didn't reply, not that her father expected one. The Falcons had enough and were falling back again. "We're winning," she whispered to herself.
Five kilometers north of Horatius, saKhan Cavell Malthus ran his hands through his close-cropped black hair and let his binoculars fall to his chest. Neither man was aware of the fact, but he and Calla had similar command styles: even though it would be safer to be well behind the lines at a command post, both men wanted to be able to see the battlefield firsthand, rather than in a holotank. At the moment, however, Malthus wondered if it wouldn't have been better to stay back at his command post at Fairfields. He watched as the Jade Falcon attack first faltered, then broke as the trinary retreated under concentrated fire from the Sentinel 'Mechs on the other side of the bridge, leaving two more 'Mechs behind. He winced as artillery followed them; none of the artillery destroyed 'Mechs, but they forced the Elementals to scatter rather than be obliterated. Artillery was one thing the battlesuited warriors feared.
He sighed. "Idiot." Unlike Calla, he was not sitting in a 'Mech, rather outside of his Masakari. Malthus reached up and touched the headset earpiece. "Goddess One, Peregrine One."
"Goddess One, aff, ovkhan?" The voice of Star Colonel Tarren Roshak crackled in his ear.
"Goddess One, what in the name of Kerensky are you doing?" Malthus asked impatiently.
"Ovkhan?"
"Goddess, your own scouts reported that there were now two companies of enemy 'Mechs in front of you, quiaff?"
"Aff, ovkhan."
"Then why did you attack with only one Trinary when you bid three?"
Roshak hesitated in his reply. "Ah…I felt I could retake Horatius with one, ovkhan."
Malthus rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Goddess One, your job is to pin the Sentinels in place and deny them the bridge, not retake Horatius. And if you do attack, I expect you to use what you have. So far, all you have done is be target practice for assault 'Mechs. These are not planetary militia, but an experienced Spherian unit that has fought us before! Now use what I laughingly call your mind and think! Or I will find someone who can!"
"Aff, ovkhan." Roshak sounded duly chastened.
"You have an Elemental Trinary holding your left flank, but the Sentinels will not attack there because they cannot due to the high banks of the river. You also have another Trinary of 'Mechs guarding your right flank, and while the Sentinels could ford the Duranter there, they do not appear to be doing so. Those warriors are doing nothing but playing with themselves, quiaff? My suggestion is to use one or both of those in your next attempt, or to simply sit there and wait for the Sentinels to come to you, as they surely will." Malthus wished he did not have to hold Roshak's hand, but Tarren was new to command.
"Ovkhan, my intention is to attack and deny them both sides of the bridge!"
Malthus seriously considered relieving Roshak on the spot for that comment, but stopped himself. Give him time, Cavell. "Very well, then what is your plan?"
"I will use the Elementals to support my attack, ovkhan. And artillery support from the two Nagas attached to your Keshik—with your permission, ovkhan."
"I grant it." Technically, Roshak was breaking his bid in asking for artillery support, but the lowly Nagas were not considered quite such, despite the fact that both artillery 'Mechs armed a pair of Arrow IV missile launchers. Malthus thought about simply ordering Roshak to break his bid and call down an airstrike, but decided against it.
"Then I will attack within half an hour, ovkhan. One Trinary and the Elementals." Roshak signed off before Malthus could make any other suggestions.
Malthus sighed again, and sat down on the foot of his Masakari. The Jade Falcons had too many Tarren Roshaks. They were young and skilled, but headstrong and overconfident. So far, the Jade Falcons had brushed aside most opposition without much trouble; only a handful of defenders had done more than delay the Clan more than a few weeks or inflict heavy casualties. The 133rd was one of them: it had been bloodied badly at Persistence, and only a month before had finished receiving replacements from the Clan Homeworlds—more warriors eager to make their mark in what supposedly was going to be an easy, quick campaign to Terra.
Khan Ulric Kerensky warned them, Malthus thought morosely, and they did not listen. Though Malthus regarded the Khan of Clan Wolf to be too timid, like most of the Warden faction, he also knew the Wolf leader to be shrewd and intelligent. He had predicted the Inner Sphere would launch a counterstroke, and they had—devastatingly so. Losing Twycross was not particularly worrisome; the Jade Falcons could always retake it. Losing an entire frontline Cluster was bad enough, but the Falcon Guards, the elite of the Jade Falcons, was infinitely worse. And if that was not bad enough, the Clans had been shocked to learn that ilKhan Leo Showers had been killed when the Dire Wolf WarShip had been struck by an Inner Sphere fighter. And that means we lose the initiative now, because so many of us have to go back to Strana Mechty to elect a new ilKhan! Stupid! Malthus put those thoughts away. It was the way of the Clans, and there was nothing to do about it.
"My Khan?"
Malthus turned and got to his feet as Star Captain Senefa came to attention. He resisted a smile and a rather unClanlike pride in her. By anyone's standards, Senefa was quite beautiful, with the typically lithe Clan warrior body, a flawless face, and a long fall of shining black hair. Senefa came from a sibko that bore his genes, and showed it; in the Inner Sphere, Cavell and Senefa would have been easily mistaken for father and daughter. He had wanted her to take command of the 133rd Falcon Fusiliers, but she did not have a Bloodname—yet—and until she did, she would always be passed over for promotion to Cluster command, even if it meant that inept people like Tarren Roshak got command instead. "Good morning, Star Captain. Is your Trinary intact?"
"Aff, ovkhan. Very much so. We have seen Sentinel 'Mechs inside Pascia Grove, but they seem content to watch us." She paused, and a smile quirked the full lips. "One of them even waved. We did not wave back, of course."
"Neg, of course not." Malthus could not resist a chuckle. He remembered his friendliness towards Calla Bighorn-Vlata. So friendly are we before we kill each other. "Star Captain, since your commander has not seen fit to use you on his attack on Horatius, I wonder if I might borrow you for a time."
"Aff, ovkhan. What are your orders?"
Malthus pointed to the west, on his right flank. "I would like you to ford the river and attack. Preferably within the next 15 minutes, if possible. Your attack will draw the Sentinels' reserve towards you and give Star Colonel Roshak a better chance to succeed. If you should meet little resistance, turn east and cut the Sentinels in half, or surround them." He used his hands to demonstrate. "Such an exploitation is at your discretion, but I would remind you that we do not intend to hold Planting, only inflict damage on the Spherians before we withdraw. Preserve your force rather than push a bad position." Like Roshak is doing, Malthus wanted to add, but it was bad form to criticize a commanding officer in front of a subordinate.
Senefa blinked in surprise. "We are not holding Planting, my Khan?"
"Neg. We stole this world from the Wolves; it was meant to be in their attack corridor. Khan Ulric has already notified me that he intends to file a Trial of Grievance in the Grand Council—though with the death of the ilKhan, I imagine such things will have to wait, quiaff? In any case, we will hold for another few weeks, then withdraw. Let the Inner Sphere have a small victory, and let the Wolves expend more blood to retake it." Senefa nodded, seeing the logic in her Khan's words, though someone outside the Clans would likely not. The Jade Falcons wanted to beat the other Clans to Terra, and if that meant temporarily surrendering a world to hurt the Wolves, that was perfectly fine. "What forces do you bid to take Pascia Grove, Star Captain?"
"My entire Trinary."
Malthus was secretly proud to hear that, but he did not let it show on his face. "Explain."
"We are dealing with an opponent who has no honor and does not fight fairly. They do not engage in zellbringen; they barely respond to batchalls. So I see no reason to continue to give them chances they do not deserve."
This time Malthus did smile. "Very good, Star Captain. You may attack when you are ready." Senefa executed a perfect salute, turned, and ran for her Trinary.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Here I deviate a little from Battletech canon. According to the Wolf Clan Sourcebook, Clan Wolf took Planting from the 41st Avalon Hussars in July 3050. However, I have changed this to Clan Jade Falcon, because when I originally wrote this, the Clan sourcebooks weren't out; we sort of had to guess who took what planets. (Shows how old this story originally is!) Also, in Lethal Heritage Victor Steiner-Davion states that the Twycross operation was meant as the first of many counterattacks against the Clans. This got me to thinking: what happened to those other planned attacks, and why did the Inner Sphere sit idly by and wait for the Clans to come back? This tries to answer both questions¼plus move Sheila and Company a little further up the chain of command.
More to follow soon!