Then force it back under your control, he commanded himself, hands knuckle-white on the control grips.
"Send them some indirect fire, Ki. Thunder munitions. Have Charlie pull back and spot for you so you can drop the mines out of sight of the Blackjacks and whatever the hell else might be back in there. Then Tamara can lead them into the mines. Thunders'll rip the legs off those lighter 'Mechs." Marcus leaned too far out in taking the next corner, and scraped against a wall of striated pink and red rock. He fought for a few seconds against gravity, the signals from his own inner ear transmitting to the Caesar's gyro via neurohelmet. "I know you're getting low on Thunder ammo. Send no more than two flights, and tell Charlie she's got to do the best she can with it."
Three 'Mechs left in this maze, bottling it up against a full company of raiders. Four to five more Angels scrapping it out on the plateau against another company. It couldn't go on much longer. The delaying tactics his people had been using were working, to a point. The battle had drawn out for almost an hour, but while it kept the Angels functional, it also meant the raiders weren't taking the critical damage necessary to knock them out of the fight. There had been no repeat of that first engagement, the quick deaths of the Quickdraw and Ostsol. With their commander on the field, the raiders had fought a much more cautious battle, wearing at the Angels' strength.
And it will work. The certainty hung over Marcus like a guillotine ready to drop. Half the Angels had come into the fight already battered from the previous engagement, and at least one lance of Shervanis' BattleMechs were acting in support of the raiders. Another guarantee by Rashier shot to heli, Marcus thought. Shervanis couldn't have much left protecting his city, and Marcus hoped the diversionary attacks by Rashier's men had laid his city in ruins. Marcus had given orders to take down the caliph's 'Mechs by concentrated fire whenever possible, those machines being not as well equipped as the raiders' and easier to remove from the fight. But the numbers were still against the Angels, and it was only a matter of time now.
If we could take out their commander, we might have a chance. But even as the thought suggested itself again, Marcus banished it. Not at the cost of Torgensson's life! It would demoralize the Angels to so coldly sacrifice one of their own, a fact the raider commander was counting on. Marcus had given strict orders against firing on those particular three raider 'Mechs, but he knew the longer the battle drew out the harder that choice would be to maintain.
Stepping out from between two high walls, Marcus found himself standing in a shallow washout along the southern edge of the plateau. Out among craters and a few rock formations, half of his Anglers were playing a deadly game of tag with the raider 'Mechs that had already made it through. And more will be coming right behind me. Where the hell is Rashier? Then two more 'Mechs ran down into the washout from further along; Jericho, now piloting a very beat-up and limping Battle-Master, being chased by a Caesar twin to Marcus' own. At two hundred fifty meters the raider stood outside optimum range, but Marcus had it by the back and the BattleMaster carried the Angels' C3 master computer.
He tied in through Jericho's targeting and tracking system, able to lock on as if the raider were a hundred meters closer. The Caesar's Gauss rifle spat out a silvery ball of ferro-nickel alloy that slammed dead-center into the raider Caesar's back. Marcus couldn't help but wince in sympathetic response, knowing the light armor carried there.
The Gauss slug cracked through the armor plating as if it didn't exist, then tore through the internal skeleton with incredible fury. The entrance scar glowed a brilliant red for a moment, almost as if the 'Mech was bleeding. Then the fusion engine, released from captivity, expanded to consume all available material. The enemy Caesar exploded with enough force to shake rocks loose from the walls around them and collapse a standing column of stone to seal the passage Marcus had just exited.
Whipping his 'Mech into a run, Marcus swore under his breath and made for a shallow crater where he could hope for some amount of cover. Caught in the open, just like the other Caesar. The thought was hardly complete before his sensors screamed at him in warning and the computer painted a red square on his HUD. Behind me! Marcus turned The Archangel hard left, straight into a steep rock formation, but the quickest way to deny any raider a shot into his rear armor. Red stone filled his cockpit window, and he felt the urge to grab sky. Why didn’t you install jump jets instead of those extra mediums, he berated himself, then positioned his arms to absorb most of the impact and push himself back off.
The missiles slammed into his left arm and torso just as he rebounded and pivoted to keep The Archangel from damaging itself against the steep wall. Marcus immediately began to walk backward, wanting to get moving more than he worried about returning fire. Then the Orion stepped from a passage further along, launching a new wave of long-range missiles and spitting out a burst of rounds from its autocannon. This time Marcus did return fire with his PPC. The azure whip traced a line in the rock, just to the Orion's right, leaving a molten scar behind. Fortunately the Orion's aim wasn't much better, the autocannons burst missing high and only a quarter of the missiles striking the Caesar's right leg.
Marcus took stock of his Gauss ammunition, noting that less than a ton remained. Run the heat then, he thought, firing off his PPC again, this time tagging the Orion square in the center torso.
As he weathered the return fire, he glanced at his display and for the first time noticed a green circle racing toward the engagement. A vehicle? Then it was joined by a second and then a third. For a moment Marcus hoped that Rashier had finally arrived, and scanned the HUD for approaching BattleMechs. Nothing. Then Caesar's computer tagged each vehicle as non-combatant hovercraft, and Marcus understood what was happening. The General and his small band of infantry had finally caught up and were trying to distract the Orion. Marcus admired the bravado, but thought it matched by stupidity. Those vehicles weren't armored and didn't have the performance value of Savannah Masters. Machine-gun fire will rip them apart.
But the Orion quickly found itself facing a bigger problem than infantry driving civilian hovercars. Two 'Mechs suddenly emerged from the badlands and were racing against its rear. As if on prearranged signal, both BattleMechs took to the air on jets of plasma, separating into a triangle with Marcus that would force the Orion to let one of them at its rear armor. The Reserve element, Marcus realized, and none too soon.
Beset on all sides, the Orion abandoned its weaker spot to the Phoenix Hawk and concentrated on the Caesar. Must be my paint job, Marcus thought and smiled grimly. He missed with his Gauss rifle, the silvery ball ricocheting off the cliff face rising up in the background, but he did manage to catch it again with his PPC. Both Charlene and Tamara Cross added to its misfortune with a barrage of laser fire, though Tamara missed with her Grasshopper's single large. It showed the poor judgment of the Orion Mech Warrior, to assume the lightest 'Mech posed the least threat.
Charlene's Hawk cut loose with its large and two medium lasers, coring into the Orion's back and carving at its gyro housing. The Orion dropped like an unstrung puppet, arms and legs splayed wide. Down but not out.
But now more raider 'Mechs were beginning to emerge from the stone labyrinth, including a Tempest chasing Ki-Lynn's Archer before it. The Tempest's slow gait and pronounced limp told of a run-in with Ki's Thunder munitions, but it was still coming. Tamara and Charlene both jetted back toward Marcus' position, covering Ki as best they could while putting distance between them and the hard-hitting raiders.
We've lost the initiative, Marcus thought. There wasn't more than the occasional request for support over the panic channel, but he could feel it in his soul. He began to back The Archangel toward the crater he'd been making for earlier. Dammit, we've hurt them, and from my count the Angels can't have lost more than three 'Mechs so far. But Rashier isn't going to make it in time and we're tiring. Marcus could tell by their movements that a few of his 'Mechs had suffered gyro damage while machines such as Jericho's BattleMaster and now Ki's
Archer were practically walking skeletons devoid of armor.
"All units," Marcus called out, overriding his link to Ki and transmitting on one of the general frequencies he reserved for such occasions. "Angels fall back from the badlands. Establish a defensive line on the plateau. Reserves and Visitor One form on Lyre." He could tell by the HUD that Chris Jenkins had never made it out of the badlands. So Jericho is alone now, except for one of her warriors strapped to the face of a raider War Dog. "Be ready to turn and hit the raiders already on the plateau. If we get the chance, we'll clear a path to the west."
The Awesome and its two flanking 'Mechs, their human shields still tied in place, held the center of the raider line that formed in the shadow of the badlands and now moved forward with deliberate purpose. Most of these BattleMechs were still fresh, except for one or two like the Orion, which crawled slowly to unsteady feet and took a place along the raider's left flank. We can't beat them and we can't hold. The Awesome was the key, just as the raiders knew that destroying his Caesar would secure a victory over the Angels. But not at the cost of Torgensson's life, dammit. Marcus pounded the arm of his command couch at the unfairness. But it's that or flee back into the desert, and next time we'll have only half as many 'Mechs able for the attack.
And there it was, all laid out before him. Three lives for ten. Not just Torgensson, but all three captive warriors. This was no longer about fulfilling a contract. From now on it was strictly personal. The Angels had gone through too much, and to run now would destroy them. On Marantha or New Home or anywhere before that, yes, they would have run to cut their losses. But Marcus didn't have the stomach for it anymore. His people were suffering because they believed in him. He owed them more than a few words and a shrug over somebody's grave. And he couldn't run when he knew it meant abandoning three of his MechWarriors to an enemy who would use them so cheaply.
He swallowed hard against a suddenly constricted throat and then opened communications with the entire unit again. "Angels, prepare to turn back and engage raider line. Concentrate on its left flank. Reserve element, you two are hitting the Awesome and his two partners. Free the hostages if you can. You have one pass to do it, because then Visitor One and I hit the Awesome with everything we've got left. On my mark." The tension pulled every muscle in Marcus' body taught. "Now! At them, Angels!"
If the Angels had any doubts, it didn't show as every unit broke away from the few raider 'Mechs holding the middle of the plateau to suddenly come around on the main raider line. The raiders had lagged over six hundred meters back while forming, but now numbered better than a full company, and half of these as yet untouched by battle. Some long-range fire was exchanged, with lucky shots from both sides. Connor Monroe in the Marauder stabbed a stream of PPC energy into the head of the already hurting Orion Marcus had tangled with, taking it out of the fight. But the Awesome managed to strike back, with two of its three blue-white PPC beams fusing together into one heavy stream that drilled through the remaining torso armor on Brandon Corbett's Griffin, completely destroying the gyro and fusion engine. The young Mech Warrior rocketed out of the cockpit as his ejection system threw him a hundred meters up and back.
Marcus felt cold, detached even as he watched. Both lines were breaking apart now, though they still worked their way closer to each other. His Caesar rocked under light autocannon fire but held its footing. He kicked the 'Mech up into a run, preparing for his chance at the Awesome, and then quickly throttled back into a walk as the scene through his cockpit window suddenly took on aspects of the surreal.
The Angels' infantry, momentarily forgotten while the hovercars had hidden down in the shallow crater near the plateau, now came flying out to streak toward lead elements in the raider line. Not too surprising that Hanford Lee would choose to join the Angels in their desperate bid for victory. What surprised Marcus was that The General had recruited help—and what help he had recruited.
Horses and a few old desert-style jeeps also came pouring out of the crater, fanning out into their own line of battle only fifty meters distant from the advancing raiders. Large, beautiful animals with wild manes and tails and each one ridden by a caftan-robed warrior. Thirty of them at least. The jeeps also carried desert warriors, but these were armed with laser rifles and SRM packs, as were Lee and his infantry.
Marcus couldn't see what they hoped to accomplish, except that they were drawing fire from the raiders that would have been meant for his 'Mechs. "Flank speed," he called out over the battle frequencies. "Now, while we can." The cold dread of a moment ago was forgotten as he watched thirty horsemen, a few battered jeeps, and three civilian hovercars spend themselves against the raider line. A few seconds is all we‘ll get, Marcus thought. The raiders will move past the line and only the hovercraft have any hope of keeping up.
Then the first ropes sailed into the air from the horsemen, grapples locking into the 'Mechs' shoulder joints and communication antennae. At least half the black-robed warriors rose from their mounts and began to clamber up the sides of the raider 'Mechs, and Marcus experienced the same stunned reaction that Charlene had at the same sight. A bolt of electrical current thrilled through his body and lent him a sudden burst of strength.
Courage and spirit against a thousand tons of technology. If nothing else, Marcus knew it was a sight he would likely never see again.
41
The Fringes
Shaharazad Desert, Astrokaszy
The Periphery
11 July 3058
And then all hell broke lose.
Charlene couldn't shake that ancient line from Milton's Paradise Lost as she watched the scene unfold before her. The desert warriors swarmed up the side of a half-dozen raider BattleMechs, throwing the entire enemy line into disarray. As the Angels heavily engaged the raiders' left flank, careful to avoid any 'Mechs with people on them, four new 'Mechs designated as gold triangles on her HUD suddenly appeared behind the raider line. Two came in on low-altitude jumps that barely cleared the jagged rock formations along the edge of the badlands, and two more bolted from the badlands to strike at the center of the raider forces. Charlene recognized Aidar's Enforcer, as well as the Shadow Hawk and recently captured Grand Dragon. The Desert Wind tribe was making a grand play. One that had just as much chance of destroying the tribe as it did of increasing their strength.
All along the raiders' left flank the Angels drew strength from the desert warriors. Two of the Mech-Warriors being held hostage had been cut free by the nomads; Kelsey Chase had already mounted an abandoned horse and was riding after a rope trailing from the Orion she'd been tied to. The MAF MechWarrior, Shannon Christienson, had been picked up by The General in his hovercar as he continued to join in with the infantry's harassment. That left Torgensson.
Charlene in her Hawk and Tamara in the Grasshopper held the middle of the field for the Angels. They had tried to avoid pushing through the mounted desert warriors, but it was beginning to look as if they'd have to. The Awesome unleashed its PPCs against anyone who tried to get close, whether horseman or BattleMech. The raider commander had burned out the Shadow Hawk's center torso in one concentrated barrage and driven back the Grand Dragon. The charred flesh and ashes of several horses and their riders littered the ground around it, testimony to the Awesome"s destructive firepower against an unarmored foe.
Charlene thumbed the trigger for her large laser, burning a scar across the shoulder of a raider Guillotine on the right flank. Only the desert warriors' Grand Dragon and Enforcer held that part of the field, and were about to be crushed. If that wasn't enough, another 'Mech moved from the badlands to join up with the raiders, designated on her HUD with the red squares of raider/Shervanis forces. It was a Clint running with a peculiar gait akin to gyro trouble, but it still could augment the raiders with another A/C 5.
"Reserve Two, prepare to jump on my command. Jump in behind the Awesome. Hit it from behind, and maybe we can shut it down before Torgensson buys it." It wasn't the best plan, but it was all Charlene
could think of in the scant seconds left before Marcus ordered the concentrated-fire barrage.
Then the Clint beat her to it.
* * *
Fighting the neural feedback, Thomas Faber concentrated on remaining upright as the 40-ton Clint lumbered forward with all the grace of a one-legged Goliath. His recirc fans had quit an hour ago, and now the desert heat had turned his cockpit into an oven—baking him at over forty-three degrees Centigrade. Only the cooling vest kept him conscious. That and the knowledge that the Angels needed him.
He'd made it from the city and all the way here before encountering any of Shervanis' BattleMechs. While trying to catch up to the raiders he'd heard some radio traffic about diversionary strikes against the city, but he knew that where the raiders went he would find the Angels. He'd tracked the enemy along their near-circular path, and while paused at the edge of The Fringes, he'd seen the way things were unfolding and what exactly this St. Jamais had done. Watching the raider line fall back in the middle, their 'Mechs trying to shake loose the persistent desert warriors, he decided that his one goal here would be to help remove the leverage the raiders held over the Angels' heads. To rescue Torgensson.
Approaching the Awesome, his only concerns were remaining upright and hoping not to catch stray PPC fire from his own comrades.
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