AUTHOR'S NOTES: Felt the urge to write some 'Mech fight tonight, so here's the next chapter! Making up for some lost time here.
Note that, since the battle is from Sheila's POV, I use the terms "lance" and "company" for the Clan formation, rather than the correct Star and Trinary. Sheila doesn't know those designations yet, so she would assume the Clans use the same formations as she does. Also note that this is a Jade Falcon garrison unit, which means they would use refitted Star League-era 'Mechs. They're also not as skilled as the line genetically-bred warriors-most are either freebirths or dezgra (disgraced warriors). Otherwise the Snowbirds would get massacred in their first battle, and we can't have that...
SDS Morningside
Near Fort Pilum, Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
28 September 3050
Oh shit, Sheila thought, gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut even harder. Oh God. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this! Her stomach made a dangerous flip and she felt her mouth fill with bile. No no no! Don't you dare puke, Sheila! You're commanding this whole shiteree, and newly minted battalion commanders are not allowed to barf all over their instrument panels! Somehow, she held down what little breakfast she had eaten that morning as the Morningside battered its way through turbulence. Well, it could be worse, Sheila thought, spitting on the floor of the cockpit to get the bitter taste out of her mouth. This could be a combat drop. If there was anything worse than being sealed in a steel egg with ten thousand moving parts—the failure of any one of which would send her, half the Snowbirds, and the DropShip into a fiery death spiral—it was being kicked out at 100,000 feet, or worse, to free-fall in a 70-ton 'Mech towards the ground. Why in the hell do DropShips scare the bejesus out of me? Sheila asked herself miserably. I must be a control freak or something…oh God, please, please stop the turbulence…
In an effort to distract herself from the icy fear in her chest and the nauseating rumbling of her stomach, Sheila mentally reviewed her orders. It was simple enough. The Snowbirds were spearheading the Sentinels and the 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalion of the Eridani Light Horse dropping across Blackett Strait to either side of the Tri-Cities. Her objective was Fort Pilum, which was about fifty kilometers east of the Tri-Cities. The fort itself had been built in the days of the Star League as part of Planting's planetary defenses, with low, thick ferrocrete walls protecting several dozen launch silos for surface-to-space nuclear missiles. With the disappearance of WarShips from the Inner Sphere after the Succession Wars, the missiles had long since been removed and the silos filled in.
However, one other aspect of Fort Pilum still remained: eight Long Tom artillery pieces, buried in bunkers impervious to anything but orbital bombardment. Four of those pieces could range on the Eridani dropzones. The good news was that Fort Pilum was designed for minimal staffing, and the automatic loaders for the artillery were controlled from a central control room: take that control room, and the loaders could be switched off. The guns could still fire from local control, but only what shells they had in the bunkers themselves—which would have to be loaded by human muscle power. Theoretically, neutralizing the control room wasn't even Sheila's job, but that of the platoon of Sentinel Light Infantry that was waiting back at Fairfields to be lifted to Fort Pilum, once the Snowbirds had secured a dropzone. Sheila's job was to make that possible, and neutralize the lance of Clan 'Mechs that were garrisoned at Fort Pilum, plus whatever Toads might be present. Aerial reconnaissance passes had indicated that the Star was second-line, Star League-era 'Mechs—still dangerous, but nowhere near as bad as OmniMechs. Taking 28 'Mechs against five was gross overkill, but Sheila didn't mind, and it would give the Snowbirds experience in operating as a unit—an easy win for the new battalion and its new commander.
The Morningside bucked again. If I survive the fucking drop, she groaned inwardly. There was the small issue that the modified Union-class DropShip could only carry 14 'Mechs at a time, which meant that only the Snowbirds' Alpha Company would be able to land first. The Morningside would then take off, dash across the strait, pick up Bravo Company, and come back. Luckily, the Sentinels had modified their Unions to carry two extra 'Mechs, at the expense of the fighter launch bays; Sheila had added Maysa Bari and her Rifleman and Togan Nordkoping and his Warhammer to Tessya's and Max's lances to give them a little more firepower. Once the Snowbirds were all together, Maysa and Togan would rejoin Nutter's lance.
Still, even if the Clan warriors came out to fight the first wave, they would still be outnumbered over two to one. Sheila hoped that they would either hunker down in the fort, or better yet, just leave. The latter thought surprised her, but if she'd ever entertained seeking battle and winning glory, that had disappeared when she had seen Mimi Stykkis' broken body in a hospital bed.
"Snowbird Six, Morningside." It was the voice of Phil Samson, the captain of the DropShip. "TOT six minutes, but I have a new sitrep." TOT was Time On Target, when the Morningside was expected to land.
She heard the worry in Samson's voice. Uh oh. "Morningside, sitrep?"
"Recon sweep ahead of us reports not five 'Mechs at Pilum, but ten, repeat, ten 'Mechs at Pilum. 'Mechs are leaving the fort and headed towards our DZ. What are your intentions, Snowbird Six?" She knew Samson was asking politely if she wanted to abort the mission.
"Morningside, wait one." Even ten second-line 'Mechs would be her superior in firepower, at least until Bravo Company could get there—which would be at least thirty minutes. She keyed the mike. "Morningside, Snowbird Six, did recon say their ETA at DZ?"
"Roger, Snowbird. They said approximately ten minutes after TOT."
That wasn't quite as bad, Sheila mused. The Morningside was to dustoff, dropping off Alpha Company as soon as the DropShip's pads touched ground. She would have to hold the DZ for twenty minutes, or more realistically, thirty. I think we can do that. Sheila wished she could talk to Max or Elfa about it, but it would take too much time. Samson had to know if she was going to abort the mission, so he could reverse the Morningside's downward thrust. Well, that's why you wear the diamond, Sheila. "Morningside, Snowbird. Charlie Mike." Continue Mission: they would land.
"Understood, Snowbird." The respect in Samson's voice quieted Sheila's self-doubt. A little, anyway.
"Morningside, see if you can get some airpower our way. Even if it's only a strafing run. Let Sentinel Six know sitrep."
"Roger, Snowbird, will do. TOT four minutes." Samson paused. "God be with you."
Sheila did switch to the company net now. "Snowbirds, Snowbird Six. Change of mission. We are now facing ten Clan 'Mechs, advancing towards DZ. After dustoff, secure DZ and wait for second element. TOT four minutes. Lance checks."
"Talisman Six, let's do it." Tessya Blackthorn had chosen the callsign Talisman for her recon lance.
"Canis Six, we're with you." Max had kept it simple, using his surname; it was not as if the Clans would notice.
"Okay. Stand by." She went to her lance frequency, and checked in with Kaatha, Marcus Drax, and Felisanna. All sounded ready—at least none of them had a quaver in their voice, which surprised Sheila a bit, as Felisanna was going into her first battle. Then again, the young woman, who dressed like a thrashrock singer getting ready to play a seedy bar, hadn't seemed nervous before they loaded onto the DropShip, either. She's either good at hiding fear or really stupid. Sheila fervently hoped it was the former.
Sheila switched back to the company net just as Samson came on. "Snowbird Six, Morningside, stand by to dustoff." She was pressed back into her seat as the DropShip's retrorockets fired, slowing the massive ship down, then felt the landing pads deploy and audibly lock. She gripped the control sticks on either side of her seat and willed herself not to be afraid, closing her eyes and breathing deeply of the stale air of the cockpit. C'mon, just a bit further…please God, just a bit further… The retrorockets were so powerful and shook the Shruiken hard enough to make Sheila's teeth chatter. It abruptly stopped as the DropShip settled onto the soil of Planting with a heavy thump. The bay doors rolled open, and the cockpit canopy automatically polarized as the bright autumn sun lit up the darkened 'Mech bay.
"Snowbirds, Morningside!" Samson ordered. "Dustoff! Go, go, go!"
"Snowbirds deploying!" Sheila exclaimed, and ran the Shruiken down the ramp before it had even fully touched the ground. Instantly, her fear was gone, as she swept the perimeter of the dropzone with her eyes and sensors. There was nothing there but trees and grassy fields, with a small knoll in the center. Sheila moved towards a thicker copse of trees to the left; beyond those trees would be the shoreline of Blackett Strait. She glanced at the secondary monitor that showed the view behind, and saw Kaatha's Griffin, Drax's Phoenix Hawk, and Felisanna's Panther moving into line behind her. In less than a minute, she was out of the blast radius of the Morningside's powerful engines.
She reached the trees, checked her chronometer, then turned the 'Mech in a full circle. She saw Max's reinforced lance moving towards the knoll: his Battlemaster, Charles Badaxe's massive Atlas, Maria Thyatis' Wolverine, Brefudd Dari's Axeman, and Maysa Bari's Rifleman. Sheila was abruptly reminded that this was Maysa's first fight too, but her Rifleman was showing no hesitation, and moving smoothly into place to cover the lance's rear.
Tessya's lance moved out to secure the northwest corner of the dropzone, fanning out: her Wasp, Philip Scott's odd-looking Aquarius, Tinyak Fernplanter's Panther, and even more incongrous, Fred Matria's Chameleon. Backing up the lighter 'Mech's was Nordkoping's Warhammer, which made her feel a bit better. Light and medium 'Mechs tended to get eaten up all too quickly in this kind of fight.
"Morningside, Snowbird Six, all 'Mechs clear."
"Roger, Snowbird; raising ship. Air support is inbound, callsign Paloma. Good luck, Snowbird." Sheila braced the Shruiken as the DropShip roared back into the sky, leaving a circle of burning grass and felled trees around it, buffeting the Snowbirds. The Morningside rode a white-hot pillar of smoke into the sky, and was soon lost to view.
"Snowbird, Paloma." A new voice came onto the radio.
"Paloma, Snowbird, go."
"Snowbird, Paloma is two Stingrays coming in east to west. What's your position?"
"Paloma, we are at the northwest and southwest corners of DropZone Ruby. Do you need me to pop smoke?"
"Negative, Snowbird; enemy spotted, ten klicks west of your pos, on the road. Raid count looks to be, oh, twelve to fifteen 'Mechs." Sheila's eyes widened behind her neurohelmet's visor—it was now fifteen enemy 'Mechs, not ten; she was now not only outgunned, but outnumbered. And now there was nowhere to run.
"R-Roger, Paloma," Sheila stammered. "Uh, what's your ordnance?"
"Just strafe, Snowbird, but we'll do what we can. We can make two passes before we're skosh fuel."
Sheila decided that was better than nothing: a strafe could still do a lot of damage. She knew Tessya and Max were listening in and knew the odds; she ordered Max's lance to get to a line of trees in front of the knoll to tie in his lance with Tessya and her own.
"Making our run now," Paloma reported. "Paloma's in east to west." The two Aerofighters flashed overhead, just long enough for Sheila to see the Stingrays' distinctive silhouette. A Marik-built fighter, the F-90 Stingray could fight in either space or atmosphere well, thanks to its forward swept wing that made it an excellent dogfighter, if tricky to fly. With a broadside of a PPC, two large lasers, and two medium lasers, they could do some real damage in a strafe.
Sheila watched the two fighters disappear behind the trees, then a moment later, both were climbing hard skyward, with missiles and laserfire in their wake. The lead Stingray took some missile hits, but kept going. "Hey, Nut," she heard Paloma yell at her wingman; Sheila wished she had faces to associate with the two fighter pilots. "Did you see that fucker that hit me? I just lost a damn heat sink."
"Rog, Paloma," a male voice replied. "Looks like a Kintaro."
"A Kintaro? What the hell is that?"
"It looks like a guy."
"Got it. Take the lead on the next pass; I want that bastard."
The Stingrays continued their climb until they were specks, rolled out at the top of their climb, then came down again, exchanging places in the dive. Both were jinking as they did so, but then straightened out. Once more, they disappeared for a moment, then Sheila saw both climbing away, dodging return fire—but now there was a fireball rolling into the air behind them. "Got him!" Paloma crowed. "Okay, Nut, one more pass and then we're bingo." Sheila knew enough fighter pilot lingo that it meant the two Stingrays would only have enough fuel left to make it home.
The two fighters came in north to south this time, and once more, neither were hit as they headed out over the strait. "Snowbird, Paloma. We're bingo minus one and got to head for the barn. I got that Kintaro and I think Nut here shot up a Crab pretty good. Looks like the rest are about five-ten minutes out—we've got them disorganized a bit. I'll let the boss know and get you some more air ASAP."
"Roger, Paloma—thanks."
"Easy day, Snowbird. Good luck to you." The two specks disappeared, and Sheila suddenly felt very alone. She ordered her 'Mechs to close up to the opposite side of the treeline: beyond that was another clearing. She would meet the Jade Falcons at the edge of the dropzone. As they passed through the woods, she saw Max's Battlemaster. She wished she could see her fiancee, blow him a kiss, show her love for him somehow. They had lay in bed the night before, too keyed up to make love, but the warmth had been enough. She continued to look at him, knowing it could be the last time.
"Talisman Six, spot report. Enemy 'Mechs to our front," Tessya reported calmly. Sheila forced those thoughts from her mind. She had to concentrate now, or die—and her battalion would die with her.
The Jade Falcons came into the wide clearing, deploying from column formation into three lines—two of five 'Mechs, one of only three, marking which unit had been hit by Paloma's strafing runs. The movement was sharp and well-executed; Sheila found herself admiring her opponent's ability to dress line. They then stopped, just inside effective long range of Sheila's weapons. All of them were Star League-era 'Mechs, she saw: one lance of five had a Bombardier, an Exterminator, a Champion, a Hussar, and a Thorn; the other five-strong lance had a Mongoose, a King Crab, a Sentinel—the irony was not lost on Sheila—a Kintaro, and a Lancelot. Finally, the rear lance, the understrength one, was still impressive: two Thugs and another Bombardier. There were no Toads to be seen, which was something, at least; Sheila was acquiring a real hatred of the little battlearmor.
Her radio crackled to life, startling her; it was the open frequency. "I am Star Captain Cewers of the Sixth Garrison Trinary of the Choyer Garrison Cluster." The voice was male, authoritative. The Bombardier of the closest lance stepped forward a pace. "Fort Pilum is mine to defend. Who do I have the honor of facing?"
Oh, right, Sheila reminded herself. Their weird honor thing. Still, might as well play along. She glanced at the chronometer again. Anything that wastes time. "I am Lieutenant Commander Sheila Arla-Vlata of the Snowbirds Special Missions Combined Arms Team, Sentinels RCAT." She did not step out of cover.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander," Cewers said politely. "What forces do you bid for our combat?"
Bid? What the hell…oh, yeah. He wants to tell me what I brought to the party. "My whole force of three lances." You don't need to know two of those lances are reinforced, buddy.
"Aff. In that case, I bid six of my 'Mechs. Will you observe batchall?" Cewers asked.
Sheila had to think about that one, which didn't take long since she had no idea what Cewers was talking about. "Star Captain, my apologies, but I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean."
Cewers sighed in obvious frustration, but whether or not he was about to explain or tell her she was an idiot, Sheila would never know. At that moment, the King Crab stepped out of the line, raising its pincer-like hands in challenge. "I am MechWarrior Voshin! I challenge any of you freebirth barbarians to fight me, if you have the courage!" The 'Mech took another step forward as there was no answer from the confused Snowbirds. "Do not any of you freebirths have balls?" He raised the pincers again.
"Go fuck yourself!" Charles Badaxe shouted, and let fly with a spread of LRM-20 fire from his Atlas. The missiles tore into the King Crab's low torso—all of them, because Voshin had stopped. The sudden onslaught took Voshin by surprise, for the King Crab stumbled backwards and nearly fell.
"The challenge has been—" Cewers began, but was cut off as Drax shot the King Crab with his large laser. An audible roar of indignation rose up from the Jade Falcons, and the warriors surged forward, opening fire. Most of their shots missed, hitting the trees, and Sheila ordered her unit back, firing in steps. The battle was on.
Togan Nordkoping was a veteran MechWarrior, a man who had experienced his first battle in the Fourth Succession War as part of the legendary Rasalhagian Tyr Regiment. He had volunteered for the Snowbirds because it reminded him of the wild days of the Tyr, when the Rasalhagian expatriates took their war for independence to the hated Dragon of House Kurita. He had not joined the Free Rasalhague Republic after that nation had declared independence, because by then he had found a new home in the Sentinels.
He grinned as the King Crab moved forward, obviously headed towards Badaxe's Atlas, but he was in no mood to be sporting. He fired one of the PPCs from his Warhammer and tore more armor from the flat torso of the assault 'Mech. It fired LRMs back at him, crashing into the Warhammer's armor, but then Nordkoping had a new target: the Hussar, which was sprinting through the woods to flank Sheila's command lance. I wonder if the Clans uparmored that thing, he thought, and fired both PPCs and medium lasers at it, ignoring the heat that washed through the cockpit and started sweat from his exposed skin, and an alarm that warned him that the Warhammer was overheating some. The lasers missed, but the PPCs did not, and Nordkoping saw that the Clans had indeed not uparmored the notoriously thinly armored Hussar. It crashed to the ground and skidded into a thick tree, then lay unmoving, on fire and sparking. He then turned his attention back to the King Crab, settling for a single PPC shot this time. This one hit as well, and the assault 'Mech now began to seek cover, its armor scored and broken—there was still plenty left, but even a mighty King Crab could only take so much. "Not so haughty now, eh?" Nordkoping said aloud; despite himself, he was having fun. "Let's see if you're any better than the Snakes."
Maria Thyatis was not having as much luck, much less fun; in fact, she was quite sure she was about to die. The Champion came at her, radioing a challenge; the two 'Mechs were the same tonnage, though Thyatis was sure that it outgunned her. She had answered with a PPC shot and a salvo of SRMs—her Wolverine was a Kurita variant, giving up the AC/5 for the heavier punch and added heat of a PPC. The Champion absorbed both and kept coming, raking her with missiles of its own and a laser or two. She twisted to one side to avoid the huge bore of an autocannon, but Thyatis was a bit too slow, and a shotgun blast of shells spewed from the gun. Maria stumbled backwards from the heavy hit, throwing up the Wolverine's right arm to protect her cockpit from being hit. Warning alarms warbled, telling her that her 'Mech's right arm and most of the right leg's armor were gone. Worse, the Champion was beginning to circle behind her, and the Exterminator had arrived.
Thyatis did not know that the Exterminator was not interested in her; the old veteran Jade Falcon that piloted it was disgusted that the Inner Sphere freebirths were not honoring batchall, but he was determined that his honor would be intact, at least. Though it would be tempting to help his starmate finish off the Wolverine, that would be dishonorable, so he looked for a more worthy target. He found one when Charles Badaxe stepped his Atlas out of the trees. He turned to fight, but Badaxe opened up with everything the Atlas had, except the LRMs—and those only because he was within their minimum range. He had no heat issues: his Atlas had been fitted with the new double heat sinks, a gift from his rich father that Badaxe really had not wanted to accept, but was now thankful for.
Lasers and SRMs tore through the armor of the Exterminator, but it was the AC/20 that did the most damage, blasting through the torso and ripping apart the heavy 'Mech's gyro. The Exterminator toppled forward in mid-stride to land at Badaxe's feet. The Jade Falcon MechWarrior managed to rise up enough to fire two medium lasers from the Exterminator's right arm, but it was like throwing a pie at a train. With a whoop, Badaxe drew back the Atlas' huge foot and delivered a savage kick to the Exterminator, finshing off the gyro and doing engine damage as well. The Clan 'Mech stayed down. "Hey, Maria!" Badaxe yelled, forgetting callsigns in the heat of the moment. "You see that? I got the son of a bitch! I got the son of a bitch!"
"Canis Two, Snowbird Six," Sheila radioed. "Shut the fuck up, clear the channel, and go kill something else." She put two PPC shots into the Sentinel, whose MechWarrior quickly realized that she had picked the wrong target and went to look for something more her 40-ton size. Her command lance was engaged by the Bombardier, who had evidently picked Kaatha, while the Thorn circled around Drax's Phoenix Hawk and ripped up its rear armor. Sheila tapped her jumpjet pedals and leapt behind the Thorn, at perfect range for her PPCs. Her skin prickled with the heat of firing both after a jump, but both azure bolts sizzled into the Thorn's back: the light 'Mech arched backwards, eerily humanlike, then collapsed backwards and exploded as the LRM magazine detonated. To her surprise, the 20-ton 'Mech was still alive and was trying to get back up, so like Badaxe, she finished it off with a kick. "Snowbird Three," she instructed Drax, "engage that Bombardier on Snowbird Two. I'll help. Snowbird Four, where are you?"
"Snowbird Six, Four, I'm on this Mongoose over here! I've got him cornered!" Sheila glanced over and saw the Mongoose and the Panther circling each other—the Clan 'Mech had a definite speed advantage, but Felisanna's 'Mech had jumpjets.
"Roger that; keep him occupied. Snowbird Two, back off and help Four." Kaatha clicked her mike twice in reply, fired a PPC shot at the Bombardier that went wide, then jumped away, avoiding two flights of LRMs, to go help her daughter. Whatever differences existed between them was gone as they worked as a team to kill the Mongoose.
Maysa Bari was in her first battle, and knew she should be utterly petrified with fear. She wasn't, and wasn't sure if that was a bad sign or a good one.
She had backed her Rifleman up and behind the knoll, which gave her heavy 'Mech some cover. Maysa spotted the Lancelot, which she remembered was the same tonnage as her 'Mech, and dropped both arms to track it. She had modified her 'Mech to carry four large lasers instead of the normal two and the autocannons, using the armor savings for more heat sinks. The crosshairs superimposed on her Heads-Up Display pulsed gold, indicating a lock, just as the Lancelot's pilot noticed her and turned to face the Rifleman. She squinted slightly and pulled three of three of the four triggers, gasping as her 'Mech instantly overheated—but her shots were deadly. All three hit, taking off the Lancelot's right arm at its shoulder.
The Clan warrior fired back with his remaining arm-mounted large laser and a PPC, but Maysa shifted the Rifleman slightly, and both shots missed, tearing into the knoll in front of her. The Jade Falcon was faster on the draw than she was, and two medium lasers sliced into the Rifleman's thin armor—but it managed to hold, Maysa absently making a mental note that she could remove a heat sink for some extra armor. This time, she only fired two of her large lasers, but once more they were accurate, slicing into the Lancelot's right leg at the hip. The 'Mech staggered and halted as the Jade Falcon warrior struggled to keep his machine on its feet, and Maysa moved around the knoll. A large laser slammed into the Rifleman's left torso, but she noted that it was down more than two-thirds of its armor and kept moving. Her third volley melted through the right leg's ferroaluminum bone, which snapped; the Lancelot went down hard in a spray of dirt. As the Lancelot struggled to roll over and fire its remaining arm, Maysa ignored the heat and fired three lasers again, tearing this arm off as well. She felt kind of bad, shooting a 'Mech when it was down, but could hear her mother, telling her to finish the bastard, because he'd do the same to her.
She heard a voice over her radio. "Rifleman MechWarrior. I am MechWarrior Sech in the Lancelot. I surrender. I am no longer able to resist."
"Uh…" Maysa hesitated. Her mother had never said anything about taking prisoners, but she was definitely not going to simply execute the poor man. That wouldn't be very fair at all. The MechWarriors never did that in the books and vids she watched. What would the Immortal Warrior do? "Um, sure, uh, MechWarrior Sech. I'm MechWarrior Maysa Bari. Just stay there, okay? If you get up, I'll have to…well, I'll have to kill you." Maysa tried to sound tough and ruthless, like her adopted mother Marion Rhialla, but knew her high-pitched voice wasn't good at intimidating much of anything.
Nonetheless, her monitors detected the Lancelot powering down. "Your prisoner, MechWarrior Bari."
Wow, Maysa thought. This is pretty easy. Wonder why everyone said it was so scary? She made another check of her armor, then moved out, looking for another target.
Max slammed the control sticks sideways, and his Battlemaster dodged two PPC shots from one of the Thugs. His opponent was no novice, and showed it—if he wasn't hitting with his PPCs, he was battering away at the Battlemaster with its SRMs, which seemed to never miss, and Max wasn't doing much damage in return with his lasers. The good news was that the tough Battlemaster was taking the damage, and he also had the new double heat sinks, which meant that Max could give nearly as good as he could take—if he could hit the Thug, that is. For an 80-ton assault 'Mech that was no more maneuverable than his 'Mech, the Thug was proving an elusive target.
Suddenly, the Thug slipped and almost fell, as it tried to advance forward through a row of brambles. Max immediately ran forward to blast it with a volley from his medium lasers, but the Thug straightened up, and Max realized he had just fallen for one of the oldest MechWarrior tricks in the book. Abruptly both arms came up and Max was staring down the barrels of twin PPCs. With an oath, he threw the Battlemaster to one side as the Thug's warrior fired everything it had.
It saved his life. One PPC bolt missed, while the other smashed the Battlemaster's PPC to junk; only one SRM volley actually hit, scattering across his 'Mech, with one missile starring the armored canopy. Lasers sliced into his legs, and Max felt the Battlemaster going over. He hastily fired back, and at the close range they were at, his shots connected as well, tearing into the upper torso and leaving a glowing crimson trail across the squat head of the Thug. The Jade Falcon MechWarrior was now the one taken by surprise, and as the Battlemaster slumped into the mud, the Thug crashed backwards into it.
Max checked and was relieved to find himself in one piece; the seatbelts had held, this time. The Thug was splayed backwards and stirring weakly, which meant that the MechWarrior inside had probably had the wind knocked out of him. As Max started getting the Battlemaster back up, he was hit by a spread of LRMs, and saw the other Bombardier closing in; this was one Clan warrior who was not trying to be very honorable.
As the Thug began to get back up, Max knew he was in real trouble. "Canis Six to anyone! I'm down! I need help—I'm engaged with two of the bastards!"
Sheila left off firing at the Bombardier she was engaged with for a moment and heard Max's call. She looked around frantically, but couldn't see him, blocked by the treeline. "Canis Six, where are you?" She thought she saw the other Bombardier, and began to move in that direction, when another voice came up on the company net.
"Snowbird Six, Eve of Destruction. TOT three minutes. Clear DZ Ruby for Bravo Company."
What the—Eve of Destruction? That's one of the other DropShips! Sheila realized what had happened: Calla Bighorn-Vlata, learning that a company of Snowbirds was engaged with a superior foe, must have loaded the rest of her battalion into one of the other Unions. She looked up and saw the DropShip descending through the clouds. On its present course, it would land right on top of them, which would probably destroy most of the Clan 'Mechs, but wouldn't do her any good either. She quickly looked at her map display, which showed another large clearing to the north: the alternate dropzone, DZ Rose. As she looked in that direction—somehow managing to do that and fire her lasers at the Bombardier, which was falling back—she realized that she would have to mark the new dropzone…which meant abandoning Max. It was the battalion or her lover.
And that was no choice at all.
"Canis Two, help Canis Six." Sheila hoped Badaxe was still around, somewhere. "Eve of Destruction, Snowbird Six. DZ Ruby is closed—use DZ Rose to the north. Can you see it?"
"Ah, negative, Snowbird Six, not from our angle. Can you mark the DZ?"
She had been afraid of that. Sheila quickly took in the descending DropShip, the dropzone, and ran her Shruiken up to full speed. "Eve, Snowbird Six, home in on my signal and follow me to DZ Rose!" The DropShip captain acknowledged, and Sheila raced across the clearing, past Maysa's Rifleman, which was systematically forcing back the Kintaro, and shut Max from her mind. She jumped over a thin line of trees and ended up in DZ Rose, which luckily was deserted. "Eve, Snowbird Six! I'm standing in DZ Rose! I'm popping smoke!" She fired off the Shruiken's smoke launchers, which sent white curls of smoke around her.
"Snowbird Six, Eve, I've got white smoke. DZ in sight—better clear the zone." Sheila jumped back into the firefight and headed for Max as the Eve of Destruction settled onto DropZone Rose. Even as it settled on its pads, the missile and gunports irised open on the egglike ship and began opening fire on the Clan 'Mechs. DropShips were not normally risked in ground combat—they were too valuable—but the Eve of Destruction soon lived up to its name.
The Battle for DropZone Ruby did not last much longer after that.