From 50 meters, he launched a salvo of SRMs at the base of the antenna, then turned his laser on the struts and cables running through the mast. Metal flared and vaporized, and cables split in flashes of blue-white fire. He had probably crippled the antenna, but had to make sure. Directing his arm up to where the mast joined with the wire mesh dish, he carefully aligned the autocannon with his HUD targeting graphics. When Grayson stabbed the firing switch, the autocannon bucked and roared across the Hawk's shoulder, deafening him with an ocean of roaring sound and vibration. Eighty-millimeter high-explosive shells shredded the dish, smashed into the mast with devastating fury. Fragments of struts and cross-braces and high-tech electronic circuitry hurtled through the air, raining a spray of debris across the field. The dish sagged, then flew apart in twisted chunks and flame. The mast itself staggered like a wounded being, then folded upon itself and collapsed in a tangled ruin.
Grayson let out a long, whistling deep breath. He was sure now that the antenna would never relay another message.
His next target was the spaceport control tower, which housed com units that could handle long-range, omni-directional transmissions, and could fill the communications gap with the jump point until a new directional dish could be rigged. As the tower offered an exceptional view of the entire spaceport and the approaches to Thunder Rift, it was entirely possible the enemy was coordinating its tactics from there. It had been badly shot up during Lori's raid two days ago. Though sheets of light wood were patched over holes in the windows, Grayson could see movement there. The tower was manned and operational.
Bringing it into his HUD display, he checked the range: 841 meters. That was too far for accurate fire against another BattleMech, but the tower was a considerably larger target than the largest 'Mech. Grayson triggered his autocannon, and sent a stream of high-explosive shells hosing toward the brick and glass target.
Through telephoto imaging, he saw its walls burst outward, changing concrete block and bricks into hurtling gravel. At the same time, 80 mm shells punched hole after hole through glass, plastic, wood, and light metal, which exploded in a roar of smoke, fragments, and licking flames.
Now for the damaged Crusader. Grayson swung the Shadow Hawk about and took eight-meter strides back toward where he'd left Singh's 'Mech. Blood roared in his ears. It would be good taking that machine apart He would be avenged finally as he watched Singh die.
But the Crusader was no longer there. Whether Singh had recovered and moved the 'Mech under its own power, or whether another 'Mech had arrived to help, Grayson couldn't tell. He scanned the area quickly, but though the smoke was rapidly clearing, he saw no sign of another BattleMech. Perhaps one of those storage sheds ahead...
Something — some movement or noise or sixth sense — dragged Grayson's attention down to a console screen showing the view aft. The smoke showed heavier there where it was drifting down on a northerly breeze from the direction of the wrecked and burning control tower.
A shadow moved through the smoke. A large and deadly shadow, with an unforgettably familiar shape.
Grayson spun the Hawk about, bringing the laser arm up to the point. The smoke eddied for a moment, then tattered away in the wind, revealing the monstrous Marauder striding toward Grayson's machine.
Squat and ugly, its crab's body on back-canted legs, there was no mistaking that 'Mech design. Especially with its rapid-fire cannon levelled across massive dorsal armor.
It was a Marauder — the same Marauder that had destroyed Durant Carlyle's Phoenix Hawk. The Marauder that had killed his father.
33
A long, ragged line of six heavy 'Mechs charged up the ravine. Lori shouted the first warning, and then the hull-down Locust, Wasp, and Stinger joined their firepower to that of the grounded weapons carriers sweeping the slope below them with a withering fire.
Lori's laser caught a Griffin squarely in its head, and other fire smashed the LRM launcher mounted over its right shoulder, leaving the heavy barrel wrenched backward on its mounting to point uselessly at the sky. But the killer machine kept coming, loosing shattering bolts from its charged particle cannon. Next to the Griffin, a 45-ton Phoenix Hawk staggered under the combined fire from three HVWC-mounted LRM launchers. Suddenly, its right leg gave way, and the 'Mech stumbled and collapsed.
Lying prone, Enzelman was firing his Wasp's laser as quickly as he could. Though he could not bring the SRM launchers in the 'Mech's leg to bear because of his position, he had the laser propped like an out-sized rifle across a boulder, and was squeezing off shots with telling accuracy. Yarin, in the Stinger on Lori's left, was wilder and less accurate, but he had scored at least three hits on a Wolverine, which was now seeking cover at the edge of the ravine, and two on a second Phoenix Hawk, which was now having trouble bringing its right arm weapons to bear.
"Sergeant Kalmar! This is Ramage!”
“Yeah!"
"They have flankers out, coming up on the left!"
Lori checked that side, and saw the line of tracked crawlers making its way along a ridge east of the ravine. The ridge gave out before it reached the Rift, she knew, but those vehicles carried artillery that would destroy her three
'Mechs if they got into position squarely on her flank. Firing down from that ridge, the crawlers would have no trouble picking off the 'Mechs behind their sheltering boulders.
"Pin 'em down until we can shake these people!"
"You got it, Sarge!" Two hovercraft roared into life, skittering back to the left on whirling clouds of dust. The curving contrails of an LRM salvo reached for the enemy crawlers, and return fire sizzled in among the 'Mechs amidst gouts of flame and dirt.
Two of the six enemy 'Mechs were down — a Phoenix Hawk and a Rifleman — damaged but not destroyed. The remaining four had halted, seeming to hesitate between continuing the advance and falling back. The second Phoenix, already damaged in its right arm, strode rapidly toward Lori's hiding place, laser fire from its left arm smashing at the boulder and the ground around her.
She took a hit high on the Locust's torso, then another. When Lori triggered a shot in reply, the bolt washed white fire across the Phoenix Hawk's head. One of the hovercraft to her left drifted sideways, seeking a better line of fire. Its charged particle cannon flashed once, and the Phoenix Hawk's already damaged head exploded in fire and shattered metal. Unmoving, the Hawk stood there, a gaping crater where its head and pilot had been seconds before. Then, with smoke trailing from its deadly damage, the dead 'Mech toppled forward, and landed with a deafening crash.
The hovercraft's movement had given the Wolverine a clear line-of-fire. When a pair of SRMs hit it from the left, the HVWC vanished in white light and a hammerblow shock that smashed at Lori's crouching Locust. After the shower of dirt and debris cleared, nothing remained of the weapons carrier but a smoking hole and minute fragments of hot steel.
With the Phoenix Hawk's destruction, the remaining 'Mechs began pulling back. The Griffin and the Wolverine each took one of the leg-damaged Phoenix Hawk's arms and dragged it down the ravine. The Rifleman limped down the hill on its own, trailing a tangle of disemboweled wiring and puddles of lubricants that steamed in the cold air.
"O.K., they're pulling out," Lori snapped. '‘Mechs, fall back to the next line. Ground troops... cover us... and watch those flankers."
Missiles firing blindly from extreme range landed among the retreating 'Mechs, but did no damage. The next line was at the very crest of the ridge, where cliff walls knifed skyward to an overhanging glacier. The Rift itself was a hundred-meter black slash in the mountain face behind them. The raw, majestic thunder of its waterfall sent tremors through the hulls of the 'Mechs as they cleared the rise. Verbal communication would be difficult here, and sound sensors useless.
The Lancers had dug earthworks along the ridge in the two days since the DropShip had launched. Each vehicle was positioned to give it a long, clear line-of-sight down into the ravine. Lori caught herself wishing for more explosives so that t
hey could set off another mine blast or another Lance of 'Mechs — heavies this time.
With four Marauders, she could hold this hill against a BattleMech army. Watching as her hovercraft completed their withdrawal to the mouth of the Rift, she shook her head. Ammo would soon be very low, and the cabin temps of all three 'Mechs were above forty degrees. The plan had been designed to take advantage of the lake at their backs, which provided a means to cool down their 'Mechs while the attackers were forced to struggle up the hill with their internal temps rising. Beside the availability of the lake, the other advantage of the Lancers' position was the wet, cool breeze blowing steadily from the Rift mouth. As heat build-up would now be less of a problem for them than for their pursuers, Grayson had thought it might give them one slender advantage. And they certainly needed every advantage they could get now.
For several moments, it was quiet — suspiciously so. Lori watched her screens closely, alert for any movement or heat or radar image, for any sign of the approaching enemy. She wished she could hear as well, but Thunder Rift drowned out all but voices transmitted directly to her ear. Then her radar indicator flashed. Helicopter! There!
The aircraft was a large, heavy-duty transport, and was descending behind the scattered boulders beyond the bottom of the ravine. That would be reinforcements, most likely, more troops certainly, and possibly another 'Mech or two from the Castle. Lori waited with mounting dread. The attack was just beginning, she knew. That first rush had been little more than a skirmish compared with what was to come.
"Sergeant? This is Ramage, private line."
She opened a private channel. "What is it?"
"Sergeant, I just wanted to say that was a beautiful piece of work down there. It's... well, I never thought a woman could handle a 'Mech like that. Two targets down in as many minutes. That was some shooting!" '
She smiled. "Let's save the congratulations for when we get out of this, O.K.?"
Just as Lori was wondering what was happening to Grayson, an explosion echoed through the cave, drowning the thunder. It was followed by another... and another. Missiles arced high up from the ravine, then came down in shattering blasts among the rocks and ice at the Rift's mouth.
The enemy 'Mechs were visible now. The four they'd seen before plus three more. These were a Stinger, a Shadow Hawk — for one heart-leaping instant, Lori thought it was Grayson come up the hill to their rescue — and the lead 'Mech, a Marauder painted red with black legs and trim. That one must have come in by helicopter, Lori thought, remembering well Grayson's description of it. So... Duke Ricol was here in person!
There was infantry with the group too. Crawlers chewed through dust and gravel down the ridge and into the ravine, swinging north to bring the Rift's defenders into their sight.
"Fire!" Lori shouted, but the command was lost in the first volleys of laser and missile fire. Her own laser snapped off four shots, and three of them scored on the already-damaged Griffin, shredding armor, opening new wounds in the huge machine's arms and torso. The Duke's men were not using the scattered boulders for cover this time, but were running uphill at top speed, hoping, she realized, to overrun the Lancers' position before they took unacceptable losses.
"They're trying to swamp us!" she said. "Pour it on!"
The Griffin stumbled and fell, whether destroyed or damaged badly, she could not tell. Switching her sights to the Marauder advancing ponderously in the vanguard, Lori watched in horror as the 'Mech's head and torso absorbed bolt after bolt, seemingly without effect.
Then she realized that the Stinger — far faster and more agile than the Marauder — was closer, was almost on top of her position. She swung her laser up and caught the 20-ton 'Mech in the leg. Then her own 'Mech reeled as the particle cannon mounted in the Marauder's forearms loosed thunder and red blackness at the cockpit of her Locust, smashing Lori to one side in her seat and tilting the 'Mech over to its port side.
When her vision cleared, she struggled to right her machine, gasping at the sudden, stabbing pain in her side.
The Stinger was close now, too close, its laser leveled on her Locust as it pulled its metal feet under its torso and started to rise. A laser bolt from Garik's Wasp caught the Stinger on the side, spinning it around and smashing it into a house-sized rock. When Lori fired her own laser, the Stinger stopped moving, disabled at the very least
But the Marauder was closer now, its twin cannons of high-energy death scything through the men who crouched behind the shallow earthworks while the giant machines battled above them. Lori fired again, and struck the Marauder's head full on, without visible effect. Its 75 tons of metal death strode closer, cannons descending for a final shot. There was one long, horrible pause as the enemy's PPCs recharged.
Then an explosion caught the Marauder above its cockpit, followed by another and another. Dazed, Lori shook her head, struggling to clear it. The Wasp, Garik Enzelman's machine, stepped between her and the onrushing monster. Lori understood. The Wasp could not fire its missile packs while it was lying down. Garik had stood and loosed a salvo at the Marauder, was now trying to dodge behind the slower machine to strike it from behind.
A lightning bolt of charged particles carved through the air, smashing the Wasp's right arm and chest. Badly hit, the Wasp staggered among the smoke and hurtling fragments. A second bolt caught the light machine full across its head. Lori heard Garik's scream through the radio, saw shattered plastic and metal exploding outward in a whirling dance of death. The blast picked the light 'Mech off its feet and smashed it down among the rocks.
"Ramage!" she yelled on the com frequency, her voice raw and burning. "They're breaking through! Garik's gone!"
Three hovercraft skimmed low across the ground behind the Marauder as Lori snapped shot after shot at the giant 'Mech's head. This was Grayson's skill and training put to its ultimate test. Missiles slammed into the Marauder's back as the trio of hovercraft howled into a tight, high-speed turn at ten meters' range.
Turning clumsily, the Marauder fired its autocannon, which yammered through the cave above the whine of hovercraft, the crash of explosions, and the insistent drumming of the waterfall. One of the hovercraft staggered in mid-flight, swayed sharply to the right, and smashed into the base of the cliff, vanishing in flame.
The Locust was on its feet, pumping laser bolts into the Marauder's flank and back from 50 meters. Lori's fist cramped over the trigger as she jerked it again and again and again...Then the Marauder was withdrawing. It staggered back down the ridge, followed by the other five 'Mechs that were still standing. "Why?" Ramage questioned over the combat frequency. Lori could pick him out as he crouched at the stern of the well deck of his hovercraft, microphone in his hand. "They had us cold. Why'd they retreat?"
Lori sagged back against the seat. Sweat drenched her face, chest, and shoulders, and the air inside the cabin seared hot in her lungs as she breathed. She twisted about and yanked the handle that opened the after-cabin hatch, reveling in the ghost of cold air she could feel at the opening.
"Temperature, I think."
"What was that?"
"My 'Mech is so hot, it's on the verge of powering down. They must have the same problem. I think they pulled back to cool off." She pivoted the Locust, studying the cool, black water at their backs. The water foamed and roiled farther down the Rift, but there were only gentle ripples here by the shore.
"And that's not such a bad idea. Yarin, haul yourself into the lake and cool down. I'll mount guard until you come out. Ramage, you round up some people and check out that Stinger we knocked out. See if it can be enlisted.
"Right, Sarge."
But instead of moving out onto the slope where she could see the ravine, Lori parked the Locust above the sprawled wreckage of Enzelman's Wasp. A pair of soldiers had already levered open the 'Mech's cockpit and were removing Garik's shattered body. She was shocked by the amount of blood in that cockpit.
Garik was the last of those who had come with her from home. He'd been mo
re, too. He'd been a companion and a friend when she'd needed one, and they'd been lovers — or, at least, they'd shared a bed. Lori felt more alone now than at any time since coming to this bitter world.
The time readout showed that half an hour had passed since the beginning of the battle. Where was Grayson? If everything had gone according to plan, he should be here now, and their little band slipping back through the cold waters of the lake toward the ocean in the north. If Garik had lived, he'd have been coming with them.
Something must have gone wrong. If Grayson wasn't here, he must be lying dead inside his shattered BattleMech on the ferrocrete apron of the spaceport. And the rest of them would die, too, when the Duke's 'Mech forces cooled enough to charge again.
Lori pondered for a moment whether they should retreat now, while they had a chance. Mopping the sweat off her face, she knew they had to wait for Grayson against all odds. She had promised. Surely, though, he should be here by now. She glanced again at the time readout. If they could only hold out another fifteen minutes...
34
The black and gray Marauder's eight-meter legs gave it a tall and spindly look, and its dorsal-mounted autocannon rose a full two meters above Grayson's cockpit Of all the BattleMech designs, Grayson thought the Marauder looked the most sinister, the most deadly. The movement of scanner antennae on either side of its low-mounted cockpit suggested the twitching mouthparts of some monstrous biped crab. Each arm, with vastly swollen vambrace and gauntlet to accommodate the paired PPCs and lasers, created an image of raw, unstoppable power.
Grayson stared at the apparition with mingled fear and hatred. Challenging a Marauder with a Shadow Hawk was a risky business. The Marauder outweighed him by 20 tons, and its twinned lasers and particle projection cannons seriously outweighed the Hawk's weaponry. Grayson's advantages, however, would be speed, maneuverabililty, and his consuming need for revenge. That need had grown to such storm-fury that he swung his Hawk about to fully face the newcomer, urging it forward in a ground-eating trot.
Decision at Thunder Rift Page 28
