Chapter 23: Fjaldr Pt. 2
February 17, 3026
Aurigan Directorate
Fjaldr
Subaltern Landon Gallas was deeply unhappy as he looked out the canopy of his Panther light 'Mech deep in the ice-encrusted tunnels beneath Fjaldr. There were a lot of reasons for his unhappiness. At the moment the weather was high on the list.
House Gallas' home planet of Itrom was a pleasantly warm planet, a far cry from this frozen, desolate wasteland to which he had abruptly been assigned by the Directorate. He hated it, and his Panther, Ranger, disliked it almost as much. After almost fifty years in temperate climes it had trouble starting up in the cold and felt decidedly sluggish. The mechanics couldn't figure out why, but then, they were House Madeira people, so he had his doubts about whether they were telling the truth.
Either way, his orders from his House Gallas superiors were clear - keep his head down until the situation clarified.
That was getting harder to do, however. Everyone was looking over their shoulder since this "Restoration" began, wondering who was on what side. From what he could tell, things were still pretty calm back home, but they were increasingly tense out here on the frontier. Rumors had spread like wildfire that a lance had been ambushed and wiped out by mercenaries, and they'd spread even faster when the Espinosas tried to clamp down on it. The entire garrison was still buzzing about it. Then Weldry happened. He knew little about it, and the few brave rough to ask questions disappeared without a trace. Then Ryan's Fate was lost and everyone wondered if they would be next.
And if that wasn't bad enough, the pirates were acting up with so much of the Directorate's attention on the rebellion. Hence, the entire lance had come all the way down here to escort the cargo haulers up to the surface and the landing pad. The place was riddled with caves, most long since abandoned.
He rubbed his hands and shivered as his breath fogged on the 'Mechs' canopy glass. His lance didn't seem to be in much better shape. He had a Madeira in a Stinger, a Karosas in a Wasp, and another noble in a Locust so far down the food chain he hadn't worked out which House she was in.
And in support they had a handful of thoroughly miserable ground-pounders.
The lead civilian miner waved, signaling that the transports were loaded up. Landon hit the ignition on Ranger and the fusion engine sputtered out. He grimaced then hit it again and this time it rumbled to life. The rest of the lance followed suit. "Alright people, you know the drill. Two in front, two behind, and call out anything out of the usual. Let's go."
The 'Mechs headed out at a slow walk while the ancient internal combustion-engine trucks made their way along the main tunnel gradually sloping up towards the surface. It was mind-numbing, but also treacherous given how slippery the icy surface was. They'd only been moving about ten minutes when the comms cracked to life.
"I've got something."
Landon sighed. "Who's got something? And what is it?"
"Er, sorry lead. This is Jinx. I've got something coming up the tunnels behind us, and it's moving quick."
Landon swore feelingly. "Alright, form up, rear guard action. Slow them down and keep falling back. Trucks, gun it and get the hell out of here. Once we're topside we'll have all the help we need."'
He quietly wondered if that was true, but there was no time to worry about that now. He leaned against the ice wall to let the trucks roll past, then turned to face back the way they'd come. How the hell did they get behind us?
A lance of bright blue energy ripped out of the darkness and crashed into the ice wall, sending millions of blinding reflections in every direction for a dazzling moment. That's a large laser - they've got some firepower. He stepped into the middle of the tunnel and returned fire blindly with his PPC, hurling back a man-made lightning bolt that made the tunnel tremble.
His fire pulverized a meter of ice but did nothing to slacken the enemy's fire. "Jinx, fall back to the trucks and take up position. Keep it together people. We can do this."
…
Lizzy Kantos gripped the steering wheel of her battered old transport truck with sweaty palms despite the cold. The entire tunnel system kept lighting up with blinding reflected light from the lasers of both sides, any one of which would cut through her truck, and her, like a hot knife through butter. Her foot pinned the accelerator all the way to the floor but still the truck seemed to crawl through the caverns achingly slowly as each second dragged past.
Then a new sound made her heart freeze in her chest - a horrible cracking noise. "Cave in!" she shouted. Ice fell from the ceiling less than fifty meters in front of her and she slammed the breaks. The wheels locked up, the heavy load of ore slammed into the back of the cab, and the truck started spinning.
Totally helpless, Lizzy could only watch in horror as a huge avalanche of ice completely blocked the tunnel and something enormous and black came down with it. The monster hit the tunnel floor with enough force to shake the ground, and then a blinding white light illuminated the entire tunnel.
"Surrender or die," thundered an enormous voice. Then the truck slammed into the ice wall and Lizzy's fear was abruptly over.
…
Landon gasped as the tunnel collapsed behind him, then turned to see a Warhammer thudding into the tunnel, its searchlight glaring into the dark. "Surrender or die," came the thunderous demand over the loudspeaker. "This is Donavan's Wolves. Those that surrender will be spared and turned over to the Restoration's forces. You have no hope of victory or escape."
His thoughts raced, searching for a way out, but he couldn't see one. With no room to maneuver the Warhammer would blow them to pieces if they tried to fight, and kill them even faster if they turned their backs to run.
"Lance, power down. They've got us."
"Gallas coward!" spat the unknown pilot. "For the Directorate!"
Landon's Panther staggered as the locus bodily rushed past him and, to his horror, opened fire on the trucks in a suicidal bid to prevent their capture. Instinctively he turned, aimed, and opened fire with his SRM-4. His missiles detonated on the Locust, punching through the armor on its side, but the 'Mech ignored him as the first truck exploded and tried to send a hail of machine gun fire into the second truck.
Then the far end of the tunnel erupted in light as the Warhammer opened fire at the Locust. One of the PPC's and a medium laser missed and instead erupted into the Panther, sending him staggering back a step as huge swathes of armor boiled away. He'd been hit hard, but as he checked his sensors, he saw he had gotten off easy compared to the Locust. The two legs were all that was left of the machine, which toppled over sideways.
"Any other takers?" roared the Warhammer.
Landon switched his comms to broadcast in the clear. "We surrender. Lance, power down your weapons."
…
In the end, the pirates brought in several Karnov UR Transport Helicopters to pull out the trucks and the 'Mechs. The tilt-rotor VTOL's made quick work of the task, and the Directorate ground troops made only a half-hearted probing effort before withdrawing back to their base.
Wolf stood watch in the Warhammer considering their next move. They'd captured three more 'Mechs, a Panther, a Stinger, and a Wasp, though only the Panther was really viable for combat.
"Wolf, this is Cyclone."
"Wolf here," he answered.
"The cargo is secured. You do good work."
"We get the job done."
"Yes, you do. You also got quite the haul there with three 'Mechs. Makes me regret giving up salvage rights."
Wolf frowned. "Where are you going with this?"
Cyclone's voice was thoughtful. "After seeing you in action, I have a proposal for you. I happen to have an Archer heavy command 'Mech in my possession, which is of limited use in my line of work. And here you have three small, fast 'Mechs which are of limited use in the war you're fighting. So here's what I propose - we do a straight swap. You give me those three 'Mechs, and I'll give you the Archer."
Wolf considered the offer, tempted. The Archer was a true command 'Mech, like the Phoenix Hawk. Its more powerful tactical computer would give him a better feel for what the entire force was doing. And its firepower was nothing to sneer at, either - with four medium lasers and two LRM-20's, at seventy tons it was a bigger, more powerful version of the Catapult with more ammunition, though at the cost of lower mobility without the jumpjets and even worse heat management if he tried to use the LRM's and the lasers at the same time.
"The Archer is worth more than the lights put together," pointed out Wolf warily. "What's the catch?"
"Up front in C-bills, maybe," replied Cyclone evenly. "But all those LRM's add up. Plus, I'm considering it an investment. Think of it as an offering to let bygones be bygones and instead focus on what could be a valuable partnership as we both seek to, let's call it 'liberate,' supplies from the Directorate."
Wolf thought it over again. "Alright Cyclone, you've got a deal. But I'll want to see the Archer first and have my mechanic go over it. If it's in reasonable condition, you'll get your 'Mechs."
February 18, 3026
Aurigan Directorate
Fjaldr
Wolf stood watching closely in the Warhammer while down below Yang, heavily wrapped up in a massive parka, climbed over the Archer 2R. Yang was far from happy about the situation, but he was doing his job. Cyclone declined to share the location of her base - their new relationship clearly still had limits - so instead they were meeting on open ground. Cyclone also hadn't shown up in person.
Part of Wolf was seriously tempted to open fire on the pirates and simply take the Archer and the light 'Mechs. The Restoration could certainly use them, the galaxy would undoubtedly be a better place without them, and a bone-deep part of him still felt the responsibility to fight pirates, not do business with them. But the more practical part of him made him hold his fire. Pirates meant business for mercenaries, for one thing. Then there was the fact that Cyclone's supply line might just prove critical in the campaign. But if he was honest with himself, the real reason was that there was no way to be sure he got all of them. And if Cyclone got away with proof he'd turned on his employer, even a pirate employer, the MRB would blacklist him across the galaxy.
So he kept his hand away from the trigger and hit the comms instead. "How are we looking, Yang?"
"She's seen better days, that's for sure, but I can fix her up."
"Alright, then get out of there. Let's get this over with." He flipped channels back to the pirates. "My mechanic signed off, so we have a deal. Take the lights and go."
"A pleasure doing business," said Cyclone cheerfully from wherever she was hiding. "Until next time, Wolf."
…
Six hours later, Wolf stood at extreme range from the Directorate base with both lances and once again hit his comms to broadcast in the clear. "Attention, Directorate forces. This is Wolf of Donavan's Wolves. I have eliminated your 'Mech forces, and I have been engaged by Lady Arano to retake this world in the name of the Aurigan Restoration. Your position is hopeless and I'm offering you the choice to surrender. Someone talk to me over there."
The response didn't take long. "This is Colonel Jarvis Espinosa, commander of this base and military governor of Fjaldr. I'm sending you a private channel."
Wolf received the encrypted channel and punched it in, hoping it was a good sign the commander wanted to speak privately.
"Wolf here."
"As I said, Wolf, I'm Colonel Jarvis Espinosa, and you may have taken out my 'Mechs, but I've got a battalion of motivated infantry under my command in fortified positions. If you want this planet, you're welcome to come and try to take it."
Wolf winced as he confirmed the numbers. As terrifying as facing a 'Mech on foot was, most 'Mechs were surprisingly ineffective against dug-in infantry. Even a small laser on a 'Mech was enormous overkill on a single soldier, but you could generally only kill one at a time while taking lots of return fire. And it wasn't just small arms, either. The militias that did most of the defense work in the galaxy were effectively useless against 'Mechs, but regular infantry came with crew-served, 'Mech grade SRMs and field artillery which could crack a 'Mechs armor, and more than enough small-arms to trash the vulnerable internals of any 'Mech once that armor was penetrated. And even if they ran out of SRMs, a single soldier with enough guts and a satchel charge had a fair chance of taking out a 'Mech's knee joint and crippling it, or even taking it down.
'Mech-grade machine guns changed the math some, but he only had six across both lances, and those were spread over the Locusts and Phoenix Hawk, his lightest and most vulnerable units.
With eight 'Mechs he could probably take them in the end, but he would almost certainly lose 'Mechs doing it. On the other hand, those advantages only held true so long as the 'Mechs came to them.
"Let's be reasonable, Colonel. I'll grant you we'd get hurt, maybe even badly hurt, coming in after you. But from the look of things, you don't have any long guns, and I know you don't have any more 'Mechs. I could pound you with LRMs for as long as it took without ever coming into your range."
"Maybe," replied Colonel Espinosa gamely, "but you're mercenaries and LRMs cost money. And if I don't have any long guns, you don't have many LRM's on those 'Mechs, either. I'll return the favor and grant you that it'd hurt, but you don't have enough LRMs to blast us out, much less stop DropShips from reinforcing us, and I'd wager you don't have the days or weeks to sit around trying, either."
"A fair point," returned Wolf. "But consider this - your job here is to hold the planet and secure the mines. You can't do that if you're holed up in there. But if you were to withdraw…"
"Forget it, Wolf. We both know this is a political stunt. Your employer wants to say she conquered the planet. So keep the mines if you want them, but the only way you're taking this planet is over my dead body. Maybe you can do that in the end, but it will gut your force, and any military in the galaxy would happily trade a battalion of infantry to take down a lance or two of 'Mechs. And the longer you hang around to work up the nerve, the longer your entire company sits there accomplishing nothing and burning cash. It's your call, Wolf. Turn around and go home, or come in close where I can get you. Espinosa clear."
Wolf chewed on the inside of his cheek, expression grim. The Colonel had hit the crux of the issue. The Restoration needed to keep moving, and it was a total waste to let three hundred odd soldiers hold up eight 'Mechs by just sitting there doing nothing. But he couldn't afford to go in after them, either, not with so few dedicated anti-infantry weapons.
Of course, 'Mech designers had come up with an answer to this particular problem.
He switched frequencies and activated the comms again. "Cyclone, this is Wolf, are you still there?"
A minute later he got the answer. "Cyclone here. Back so soon, Wolf?"
"I'm in the market for a Firestarter."
March 9, 3026
Aurigan Directorate
Fjaldr
It had taken three miserable weeks on this frozen hellhole, but behind the scenes things were moving quickly. It had been a race between Wolf to get Lady Arano to front the money for a Firestarter and Cyclone to find and deliver one, and Colonel Espinosa to get word back that the Wolves were there and ship in enough reinforcements to make taking the world impractical and force the Wolves to withdraw and start all over somewhere else.
Wolf took the unwelcome opportunity to get themselves reorganized into an understrength Company. Yang finished patching up the Archer and Wolf transferred himself there to take advantage of its stronger computer support to help him keep track of the entire Company and less likely to be taken under fire. Accompanying him the new command and fire support lance were Muqin in the Catapult and Mockingbird in the Warhammer. Mockingbird had the credentials to handle the heavy 'Mech what with her private training, but Wolf wanted her close enough to keep an eye on until he had more confidence in her.
The brawler lance was also understrength at three 'Mechs, with Sumo (finally recovered) in the Thunderbolt, Dropline transferred to the Centurion, and Behemoth watching over them in her Shadow Hawk.
The scout and striker lance was effectively also understrength despite having four 'Mechs, because two of them were Locusts that took a single 'Mech bay slot on a Leopard. Dekker commanded in the Phoenix Hawk, while Sunshine would move over to the Firestarter once it arrived, and Medusa and Farmboy fleshed out the lance in Locusts.
In some ways he hated to do it - redoing the command structure right before what promised to be an ugly fight, with little time to practice, was a recipe for disaster. Unfortunately, if they were ever going to act as a Company he needed to make the switch sometime, and while this fight promised to be nasty, at least they were pretty confident of what they were up against and could plan ahead for it.
And while they drilled and anxiously waited as the days passed, the race continued. Unfortunately, since both sides were using commercial JumpShips, in the end it was a tie. Cyclone's DropShip and the Directorate DropShip arrived on the same JumpShip, eyeing each other warily as they each made planetfall.
And now, with the firestarter in hand, it was time to get on with it.
…
Colonel Espinosa felt like he'd aged three years in the past three weeks, and he surveyed the snow-draped landscape with binoculars that hid the worry lines etched deeply into his face while Major Itrom, his second in command, stood dutifully next him. Despite his better judgment, he'd allowed himself to hope the mercenaries would withdraw. They hadn't, and that meant they were coming in, one way or another. At first he'd been puzzled why they didn't get on with it - then he realized they were waiting for reinforcements of their own. He wasn't sure what they were waiting for, but he knew he wasn't going to like it one bit.
And, as hard as it was to admit, that his command was doomed. But knowing he was going down changed his priorities from preserving his men to inflicting as much damage as he could. And, to his immense pride, the men had risen to the occasion. Their morale was steady and they were ready to fight, though with an unavoidable air of gallows humor to it. He was immensely proud of them and it had brought him to tears a time or two late at night. But they were defending their people, and he found that, despite everything, he was eager to inflict a little pain on those perpetually holier-than-thou 'Mech jockeys.
And if his new delivery worked out, he could deliver a lot more pain than those mercs could believe possible.
He sighed and set down the binoculars. "They're out there, Major," he said softly to his second in command. "Whatever it is they're waiting for, they've got it. It won't be long now."
"We'll give them hell, sir," said the solid woman who, despite her heritage, had never wavered once in her duty.
Espinosa smiled grimly. "Damn straight we will." He held out a hand, and she shook it. "Whatever else happens, I want you to know that you have been an excellent officer and I'm proud to have served with you in this unit. Now get to your station, Major, and good luck."
…
Wolf glanced out the unfamiliar cockpit window of the Archer down at the light 'Mech in Sunshine's hands.
To an outsider, it wouldn't seem like a single Firestarter would make much of a difference, and at first glance the 'Mech didn't seem all that different from other light 'Mechs. It was distinctly humanoid shaped like the Phoenix Hawk. But the difference, and the source of the Firestarter's name, was that in addition to its two medium lasers and two machine guns, the 'Mech mounted four Purity L-Series flamers, one in each arm, one in the center torso, and another rear-facing on its back.
Those flamers weren't especially useful against 'Mechs - you could overheat one, but you had to get in close to do it by 'Mech standards, and closer range was usually not where light 'Mechs wanted to be.
But short range for a 'Mech was quite another story for infantry. Those flamers had a maximum effective range of ninety meters and they were pure nightmare fuel for infantry, incinerating entire platoons with a single wave of the 'Mech's arm. And Sunshine didn't seem at all averse to visiting that destruction on the forces that had forced her to flee her home.
"Alright people, this is what we've been waiting for," said Wolf. "You all know the plan - execute."
An enormous wave of one hundred LRMs erupted from the Archer, Catapult, Thunderbolt, Centurion, and Shadow Hawk which detonated several seconds later in enormous, rolling explosions. The brawler lance advanced as a second massive salvo of LRM's launched to cover their attack.
Freshly delivered Directorate crew-served auto-cannons returned fire at extreme range, a handful of hits blowing chunks in armor, but the 'Mechs didn't slow. Instead, they tracked those heavy weapons and returned fire, destroying guns and crews one by one.
The second salvo of LRMs landed, killing soldiers and destroying weapons, but just as importantly, keeping the soldiers' heads down and limiting return fire.
And the range kept closing.
…
Colonel Espinosa buried his face in the snow as another barrage of LRM's detonated across the base. The barracks and his command post were completely demolished, but he'd expected that, and his troops had been digging in as deeply as they could ever since it became clear the Wolves weren't leaving.
They had multiple layers of deep trenches now, so far all the LRMs coming in, he hadn't suffered too many casualties yet, though it could be hard to remember that as the screams of the wounded and dying assaulted his ears.
He peaked out of cover and grimaced as he saw the 'Mechs advancing. He knew the Wolves had received something on that DropShip, something that Wolf felt was worth the wait. Then he saw it, coming in behind the assault lance, and his heart seemed to stop. That son of a bitch, he'd brought in that walking war crime, a damned firestarter.
Unless they took it out quickly, his command was doomed. His jaw clenched as the 'Mechs methodically took out his support weapons, accepting the damage that came with it to protect their anti-infantry assets.
Maybe they wouldn't survive after all, but that didn't make anything he'd told Wolf untrue. To get to grips with him they had to come into SRM range, and he'd received a little surprise of his own.
…
Damage reports continued to trickle in as the equivalent to AC/2s hammered his lead 'Mechs, but they were down to their last few guns now. "Wolf to Company, we're firing the last LRM salvo. Once it's in, assault lance initiate break-in and clean up lance follow them in. It'll be ugly, people but get in there and get it done. And protect Sunshine, or this'll get one hell of a lot uglier. Salvo away."
The missiles exploded home, then Behemoth led the Thunderbolt and Centurion in a loping charge, firing on any heavy weapons they could see while ignoring the constant patter of small arms fire on their armor.
The range closed to 100 meters, 50 meters, when suddenly a platoon of infantry seemed to materialize out of the snow from a hidden forward trench line. The trench erupted in a barrage of SRMs, all of them focused on the 'Mech with the bad luck to be closest, Behemoth's Shadow Hawk.
Chunks of armor blew off the 'Mech, staggering it, before the entire 'Mech exploded in flames. Shit, inferno missiles! The SRMs erupted in a shower of sticky, extremely flammable gel.
The Shadow Hawk was hit by at least six of them and the 'Mech was completely engulfed in flames. The machine stumbled two more steps forward before seizing up as the overheating fusion engine shut down.
"Behemoth, eject!" he shouted into the comms, then exhaled in relief as the head leaped clear of the raging fire and soared clear.
More SRMs flew in on the vulnerable target from the main trench lines and the Shadow Hawk tipped over backwards and crashed into the snow. The impact cracked the armor and the flames eagerly penetrated to the LRM ammo reserves, which blew the 'Mech apart.
A cheer went up from the soldiers, but it died as the clean up lance reached the forward line. A hail of machine gun fire tore through the lines, and then Sunshine's flamers opened up. There were no survivors.
"Medusa, go get Behemoth in your rumble seat. The rest of you, form up and continue the advance," grated Wolf.
…
Donavan felt old and tired as he stood in the burnt-out wreckage of what had once been the planet's main settlement. The infantry hadn't been able to replicate their ambush, so while he had damage across every 'Mech that had gotten into range, he hadn't lost any of them aside from the Shadow Hawk.
The superb infantry, on the other hand, had been wiped out to the man.
…
"Talk to me Miranda," said Donavan from a chair next to her bed in the Argo's Pod A care center.
Behemoth lay in the bed staring at the ceiling. She was in a bad way, with significant burns on the right side of her face and half of her hair burned off.
"What do you want me to say?" she snapped, glaring back at him. "That it was my fault for walking into that ambush?"
"No," answered Donavan evenly. "I want to know if you're okay, and to let you know you can talk to me if you want. I may not know all of your story or how you came by the Shadow Hawk, but I do know what it's like to lose your own 'Mech."
Miranda's tension eased a little and she looked away. "I'm dispossessed," she said in a whisper. "All that work, all those years, gone like that. I always thought it would be me that gave out before the machine." She wheezed a short laugh from inflamed lungs. "I guess you'll be cutting my pay."
"I've been thinking about that, as it happens," he replies almost gently to the woman that dwarfed him. "We're getting big enough that our ad-hoc organization isn't holding up as well. It's about time we got ourselves organized. If we make it to a full company, command is usually by a captain, and the lances are led by lieutenants. How would you feel about being Lieutenant Behemoth, leader of Bravo Lance, and officially taking on what you already are – my second in command of the unit?"
Miranda looked back at him with wide eyes. Donavan grinned. "What do you say? I can't give you back your Shadow Hawk, but I can give you some place to belong that you've more than earned."
A single tear slipped down her cheek. "Yes."
A/N: Yes, Muqin means mother in Mandarin (or at least I hope it does). To the guest review, I'll try to fix the issue with Decker in two places at once in the previous chapter.