"And then there were seven," Aidan said softly as he noted the Executioner's fall. "You did that with just your lasers, Star Captain Joanna?"
"Truth to tell, I had a little help." She explained how Roshak's direct hit to the cockpit had annihilated the Executioner.
"The sleeping giant awakes early," Aidan commented. He saw that the Mad Dog was closing in on Roshak's Nova. The contest was something of a mismatch, with the Mad Dog so much heavier than the Nova, but Ter Roshak had a couple of advantages over his opponent. First, he was a seasoned pilot, of an age not usually seen piloting a 'Mech. Second, the Nova was a relatively unknown quantity on a Jade Falcon planet.
"Should we help him?" Joanna asked, her tone almost analytical rather than sympathetic to Ter Roshak's plight.
"No, we must not waste firepower. He left us to fight without his help. Let him fight this one out on his own. Have we run far enough?"
"I think so. We seem to have two ranks of pursuit. I think it is time to take care of the front line. In the meantime we need more split in their ranks. You veer off to the right. I will join you in a moment."
Joanna was surprised to note how quickly she followed Aidan's directions. Perhaps he was a natural warrior, after all.
Aidan's Summoner turned and took a short jump toward the leading trackers, one of the Warhawks and the Ice Ferret. Simultaneously he noticed that two of the other four 'Mechs, the Dire Wolf and the Gargoyle, had begun to go specifically after Joanna. The gap between the groups of 'Mechs was widening, what with the Mad Dog engaged in a rough contest with Ter Roshak's Nova.
As Aidan landed his Summoner, he glanced toward the two lead 'Mechs and thought of a little variation on that childhood rhyme that kept running through his head: "Seven little BattleMechs, thinking they were alive. Two tripped on wires, and then there were five."
* * *
Ter Roshak had come into the Trial of Refusal not caring whether he won or lost, lived or died. Dying would not, in fact, be so bad. He would have challenged the council instead of accepting the shame; fought in a final Trial instead of winding up in a useless life; died with honor in the Trial instead of dying as cannon fodder. Battling with the Mad Dog, trading it blow for blow, he felt some meaning had returned to his life. And to think he had been so ready to die only a few moments ago.
He had mounted a pulse laser into the left side of the Nova's torso. Right now he was cycling through the lasers on that arm and firing off the pulse laser in the torso in an effort to keep his heat under control.
The Mad Dog was under no such constraints. It carried only two weapons, Gauss cannons that would spit out a melon-sized ball of hardened steel at Mach 2 every ten seconds. Twice the melons struck home, shattering most of the armor plate protecting Roshak's right and center torsos. Roshak now had to keep the exposed side away from the Mad Dog, which meant that he could not use the missile rack mounted in this 'Mech's left arm. Circling and weaving around his almost stationary opponent, Roshak stayed in almost constant motion, his slow and steady fire gradually chipping away the Mad Dog's armor. His opponent had yet to score another hit with his Gauss cannon, but Roshak knew it was only a matter of time.
Suddenly he wondered if he might not turn the Mad Dog pilot's immobility into an advantage. He had to do something soon, he thought, as the muzzles of his opponent's weapons sent silver streaks speeding past his cockpit viewport.
* * *
Quickly calculating the range, Aidan fired a salvo of the Thunder LRMs at the Warhawk and the Ice Ferret. He watched as the missiles fell in front of their targets, exploding just before hitting the ground. The two 'Mechs were fooled enough to try to knock them out with their anti-missile systems, whose shots were too short.
If either 'Mech suspected what was coming, neither showed any reaction. They did not diminish their speed, as they might have, although Aidan calculated that even a slowdown would have taken them directly into the minefields that the Thunders had laid down. As his opponents' massive 'Mech feet came down directly on clumps of mines, three of the four legs were instantly blown off below the knee. The Ice Ferret crashed to the ground, setting off more mines and undoubtedly killing the pilot, while the Warhawk tilted forward on its one leg. With superhuman effort, its pilot managed to force his 'Mech sideways, away from the minefield. Then it, too, fell to the ground. In a moment the Warhawk pilot had ejected. Watching him sail upward, Aidan realized immediately that the man's angle was wrong. The arc of his flight was taking him to the outer edge of the minefield. Aidan felt the pilot's death would be useless, but fate was stronger. As the man's ejection seat touched ground, a small tower of explosion enveloped both him and his ejection seat.
"I think the observers must be getting a bit restless," Joanna commented over the commlink. "The odds could be in our favor any minute. Unless these fellows coming at me get lucky. By the way, you did promise to get back to me, did you not?"
Without responding, Aidan set his Summoner on a two-jump trip to the point where Joanna was trading fire with the Gargoyle. The Dire Wolf, a notoriously slower vehicle, was closing in. Aidan calculated that they had approximately twenty seconds before the pilot could bring the 'Mech's massive firepower against them.
"I cannot see why you need me, Joanna."
"Do not make jokes. You know I do not understand humor."
"I was not joking."
"I suggest you occupy the Dire Wolf's attention."
"Gladly, Joanna."
As Aidan moved toward the Dire Wolf, he sang, louder this time: "Five little BattleMechs, playing tough at war. One got a stomach cramp, and then there were four."
Just as he was launching a salvo of SRMs at the Dire Wolf, he glanced through his viewport and saw that Ter Roshak was definitely in dire trouble with his Mad Dog.
Roshak should have seen the move coming. The Mad Dog pilot suddenly pointed his Ultra autocannon down and chipped away at the Nova's right-foot armor. Feeling shudders up through the 'Mech's right leg, Roshak knew something important had been hit.
There was no longer any sense in going head to head with this BattleMech, he thought. Engaging his jump jets, he leaped nearly the full capacity of 150 meters, getting closer to where Aidan and Joanna were in the midst of a furious battle. When he landed, however, it was on the damaged foot, and his 'Mech lost its balance. It would have fallen flat on its back had Roshak not manipulated the joystick frenetically to bring the 'Mech down to one knee, with the other leg slightly sprawled out. As it came to rest, the Nova was slightly tilted but operable.
It had to be operable, for the Mad Dog was lumbering slowly but steadily toward it.
* * *
Aidan did not cease his onslaught as he closed with the Summoner. He spent his remaining Thunder LRMs, but the Dire Wolf pilot merely steered his ponderous machine around the bomblets they dropped. Aidan recognized that the pilot of this 'Mech was a conventional warrior, the kind who plods on and usually wins through sheer endurance and determination. That is, until he or she runs into a particularly daring or foolish opponent. Aidan knew he qualified in one of the latter categories, but was not sure which.
The Dire Wolf pilot, to avoid the heat buildup of its massively augmented weaponry, was firing only two of its large lasers at a time as he slowly moved to close the range. As for Aidan, he had no intention of overheating his machine in a long-range duel, and to trade blows at close range was suicidal. It was time to test fate once again.
Turning directly toward the Dire Wolf, Aidan brought his machine up to full running speed. As the distance closed, he watched his secondary screen.
600 meters.
400 meters.
Seeing Aidan moving directly toward him, the Dire Wolf pilot stopped, heat visibly venting from the 'Mech's legs and back.
350 meters.
200 meters.
The arms of the Dire Wolf came up and pointed directly at the charging Summoner. As the eight arm-mounted lasers were brought up to full charge, static discharges crackled acro
ss their muzzles.
175 meters.
150 meters.
Raw energy leapt from the Dire Wolf's extended arms as Aidan slapped the jump switch. Up over the deadly fire, Aidan's Summoner rose. The arms of the Dire Wolf tried to track the airborne target for a second shot, but it was too late. Seventy ugly tons of BattleMech landed feet first onto the cockpit of the Dire Wolf.
As Aidan worked his 'Mech free from the wreckage, the rhyme kept running through his head: "Four little BattleMechs, sliding down the scree. One ate a Summoner, and then there were three."
* * *
Aidan could not, for a moment, decide which way to go. Coming fast toward the fray were the two 'Mechs that had not yet played any significant part in the battle, a Warhawk and a Summoner. Nearby was Joanna, holding her own against the Gargoyle, though she could probably use help by now. And Ter Roshak was half-down, his 'Mech looking almost numb as the Mad Dog approached.
What good was life without choices, Aidan wondered.
* * *
Ter Roshak was indeed numb. Not only had he reached the end of his rope as an effective warrior, but he had no feeling in his legs. There was no wound there, no way any shot from the Mad Dog could have reached his legs. Perhaps the numbness was from sitting too long in his pilot seat, the stiffness just one more sign of age.
The battle had taken too much out of him, so apparently they were right about the uselessness of old warriors. He never wanted to admit his age to himself, but this test had brought out his infirmity only too well. He was old. He deserved to die. Why could not this Mad Dog fire the shot that would finish him off once and for all?
He closed his eyes, waiting for the final moment. He would not eject, he knew that. Then his eyes shot open again. That was neither the way of the Clans nor the way of a good warrior. If he was to meet death, it must be with his eyes open.
Aidan did not know whether it was wise to tackle the Mad Dog coming at Ter Roshak. His 'Mech's legs were damaged from the jump onto the Dire Wolf. It looked like his engine shielding had taken a hit, too, for he could not move at full speed. Lastly, his long-range ammo was depleted, leaving him only the short-range missiles and autocannon.
Coming at the Mad Dog from the side, in a tactic sometimes known as blindsiding, Aidan fired off a cluster round from his LB 10-X, grateful for its greater range as it did considerable destruction to the heavy 'Mech's left side. The autocannon would normally have been no more than the sting of an insect, but Roshak had already created deep lines of damage in the machine of his relentless opponent. A sheet of flame erupted from one of them, shooting out like a flamethrower.
The Mad Dog came to an abrupt stop, the pilot apparently dealing with whatever had caused the sudden fire. For a moment, Aidan drew a blank. He did not know what to do. The pilot of this 'Mech would regain control of his machine and return to the battle. The two oncoming 'Mechs would arrive. Joanna's battle would end in victory or defeat. There were too many factors and insufficient solutions.
He wanted to curse, but the only one strong enough among Clan Warriors was "freebirth," and his experience among freeborns had removed that oath from his vocabulary. The way this Trial of Refusal was working out seemed unfair. They had, the three of them, started out against nine. Already they had defeated five. Five was an impressive number, but in a Trial of Refusal, the challengers could win only by defeating every one of their opponents. They had come close, but that was not enough.
And his chance to win a Bloodname was riding on this Trial.
Gritting his teeth, he rejected the odds and went after the Mad Dog. Firing his LB 10-X rapidly, he was surprised to make another strong hit as the Mad Dog's right arm dropped. Aidan had hit something there, perhaps just the right clump of myomer tendons, that had disabled the arm. The Mad Dog, looking as wild as its name, rotated on its torso to face Aidan.
"Be careful, Aidan," came Joanna's voice over the commlink, "this is one time not to give the battle all you have. Your 'Mech looks like the only things holding it together are spit and wishes. Do a feint, something. I am on my way."
"What happened to the Gargoyle?"
"What do you think? It is finished. And if you have not noticed yet, the odds are now even, three against three. Of course, two of those are just entering the battle without having used up much firepower or energy."
Aidan had forgotten the childhood rhyme again until now. He had been making it up for the last couple of verses, anyway. "Three little BattleMechs, none of them new. One lost its nuts and bolts, and then there were two." If only he could concoct weapons instead of verses. One might be able to slay dragons with metaphors, but a BattleMech was another matter entirely.
* * *
Ter Roshak wished now he had not disabled his communications systems. He wanted desperately to coordinate the rest of the battle, but could not. Perhaps this was another sign of advancing age.
Ever since his 'Mech had dropped to its knees, he had been looking at things from a skewered viewpoint. Everything outside the 'Mech seemed at an angle. Although he knew that the two BattleMechs he could see were upright, they appeared to lean to their right on a sloping landscape.
The Mad Dog was about to finish off the Summoner, Roshak could see that. Had the Summoner been fresh, it would have been another matter. The Mad Dog was severely damaged, both from its battle with Ter Roshak and from its present conflict with Aidan. No matter what type of 'Mech it was, it could be beaten.
On his secondary screen, now being used to get an overhead view of the 'Mechs left in the field, Roshak saw the advancing opponents as well as Joanna's 'Mech reentering the fray, although a distance away.
Having rotated toward the Summoner, the Mad Dog rocked it with a hit from its remaining Gauss cannon. A glow from inside the cockpit of the Summoner indicated to the experienced Ter Roshak that the engine shielding had been breached and waste heat from the fusion fires powering the 'Mech was being dumped into its interior. Perhaps that was why Aidan seemed to be moving back from the fight. Too much damage, combined with too much heat to risk an ammo explosion.
* * *
Well, at least the Mad Dog had given up on Roshak and his Nova. He wondered if he would ever pilot a Nova again. It had been the wrong choice. He had desired its maneuverability, but had ended up needing more power. Of course at that time he had not cared whether he won. Still, in a battle of three-to-one odds, the Nova was a nearly suicidal choice. Its maneuverability had only prolonged his meaningless survival. When the Mad Dog returned its attention to him, it would take only one solid hit to topple him.
Then, he realized suddenly, there was no reason for him to make a final stand. What did he have left? He had spent all his missiles. The left-torso laser was destroyed. Only the left-arm medium lasers remained. They could erode some of the other 'Mech's open gashes, but that was about all. It was what he had, though, and a good warrior always fought with what was at hand. He activated all six medium lasers, directing four of them toward various slashes and gouges in the Mad Dog's armor, the other two toward the Gauss cannon that was the 'Mech's left arm. Because the Summoner had disabled the 'Mech's right arm, the hope of ruining the other one was too tempting to resist.
Suddenly the Mad Dog was taking fire from two directions. When it swung its arm toward the Nova, blasting it with its autocannon, Ter Roshak felt his 'Mech sway and threaten to fall. The Mad Dog might have fired again and put the Nova out of its misery, but Aidan ripped off a large chunk of armor with a fusillade from his LB 10-X, diverting the pilot's attention back to his Summoner.
On his primary screen, enlarged for a closer view, Roshak saw the two untouched BattleMechs within range. The Warhawk sent Aidan's Summoner into a half-spin with pulses from its extended-range PPC, but Roshak kept the Mad Dog from going in for the kill with his fusillade. The heavy 'Mech had to turn its attention back to Roshak.
As Roshak steadied himself for the final shot, he lightly touched the lever of the ejection seat that he had vowed not to use
even if it meant being charred to a crisp in the cockpit.
But suddenly the Mad Dog exploded. A flight of missiles glided in to demolish it with a direct hit. They had come from behind Roshak and could only have been launched from Joanna's 'Mech. If the Mad Dog pilot survived, which was unlikely, he or she would undoubtedly complain about being caught in a roughly triangular attack by the three defendants.
Then Roshak's 'Mech shifted abruptly, and he felt it drop further. Something, perhaps an unnoticed hit, had made the other leg go down. Now, he realized angrily, there was little more he could do in this Trial of Refusal that he had demanded for his own honor. Worse, not only was the battle up to Aidan and Joanna, but he was in a 'Mech that was kneeling in the center of a battlefield as if in prayer. What an absurd sight we must be, Roshak thought, my 'Mech and I!
* * *
"Two little BattleMechs, coming at a run. One chewed the grass, and then there was one." Joanna's grunt of disgust told Aidan that he had inadvertently communicated his verse over the commlink.
"Consider," Joanna said. "The odds are now in our favor. Three to two."
"Joanna, Ter Roshak's BattleMech is not moving, nor can it stand. You are stretching a point with your three-to-two odds."
"Perhaps. But technically Ter Roshak is not yet defeated. I agree it will only take a push from a baby's finger to send him flat, but he is still upright, and upright counts. But at least we have evened up on the odds."
Another hit from the Warhawk's ER-PPC sent tremors through Aidan's cockpit. The truth was dawning on even his stubborn brain that he could not defeat this massive and efficient machine.
He might do better to surrender. The council had not formally invoked the death penalty when announcing their decision. Perhaps they might simply send him to a lower caste. No, damn it, that would not be better. It would be the worst thing imaginable. He had to go on. Better to die than to capitulate, especially at this point.
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