Impetus of War

by Blaine Lee Pardoe

  Loren and Colonel Stirling had passed long hours debating the plan, and it was the best they'd come up with. Under the Alpha contingency, the unit would pull up out of the habitable areas of the old seas, and dig into position on the continent of New Scotland in the petrified forest dubbed New Sherwood. "Your concerns are similar to those of Captain Fuller then?"

  "Yes, sir," she replied. "We could be up there for weeks living in our 'Mechs. Our ground-based forces would have to fall back to the DropShips to have any hope of surviving."

  Loren understood her point. "That's correct, Captain. We'd have little choice. Up there we'd have our best chance of holding out until reinforcements arrive."

  Captain Jebediah Lewis of the Combined Arms Support Company was obviously irked by the exchange. "Don't worry about us, Chandler. We're more than able to hold our own. Remember, I only have a platoon of standard infantry on this mission. The other two platoons are Infiltrator troops whose battle armor will let them operate up on the continents. And my tanks are all refitted with new tech has well. We won't drop the banner in this fight."

  Chandler bowed her head slightly to concede the point as Loren spoke. "I don't want anyone coming into this without knowing the full truth. We're working with very old intelligence. Things on Wayside may have changed dramatically by the time we get there. You've all got to be ready to accept new plans and new orders on the fly.

  "Bottom line ... be prepared for anything."

  9

  Pirate Jump Point CEXC-0021-A.2122.97

  Wayside V (Wildcat)

  Deep Periphery

  3 July 3058

  The Fox's Bane and her attached DropShips materialized at the pirate point over Wayside V sending a ripple of electromagnetic energy out to mark their arrival. Loren was on the bridge of the Claymore as it passed through a state of energy into matter again. As his sense of balance returned, he turned to face Captain Spillman seated in the command chair of the Overlord Class ship. The lanky DropShip captain seemed unaffected by the jump, which must have been merely one of thousands he'd made in his career.

  Loren looked out the narrow viewport and saw the image of Wayside V below them, a gray-green ball with wisps of greenish clouds surrounding it. As the all-clear signal sounded, he checked his chronometer, then the status board in front of him. Cat Stirling rose from her seat a heartbeat before he did and checked the lights. "We're all green, Captain," she said, shooting a glance back at Spillman.

  "I'm aware of that, Colonel. Hold yer horses fer a second." He checked his own control panel built into the armrest of the chair. Despite the tension of the moment, Spillman's cockiness still managed to shine through. Loren had a chance to observe the man during their trip, and his disdain for authority was obvious. In space, when on a military operation, he was in command. His orders could come only from Colonel Stirling, and though he technically reported to her, he never acted like it. "It appears that the Kobayashi has jumped successfully as well."

  "Initiate drop sequence," she commanded.

  Spillman nodded. "This is the Claymore to the Bull Run, Stonewall, and Retribution. We have a go signal. Say again, go signal." There was a distant grinding noise followed by a jarring thud that seemed to reverberate throughout the ship as the docking ring that held the Claymore to the spine of the JumpShip released and the vessel started to move toward the planet. Loren felt a slight pitch in the ship as the massive fusion engines roared to life and the ship began to accelerate toward Wayside V.

  From his own cramped workstation, he activated one of the communications controls. "XO to Spyglass," he said, using the intelligence officer's call-sign. Captain Colin Lovat was hidden in another of the ship's topside observation suites where sensor data was correlated. Lovat was already on-line, but before he could respond Loren gave him his order. "Give me pictures and stories."

  Pictures referred to long-range surveillance cameras mounted on the DropShip. Lovat had preprogrammed them to pick up the key points of interest to the Fusiliers, namely the LZs and the positions known to be held by the Smoke Jaguars. "Stories" was the key phrase for sensor data from the surface of the planet. Together, these data would tell Loren how accurate the Combine intelligence was. The image of Wayside V came into view on Loren's and Stirling's monitors, zooming in on the hot spots.

  "No signs of Jaguar activity," came Lovat's voice. "No active sensors in or around the jump point, no sign of aerospace fighter activity."

  Loren activated his communications channel, this time contacting the fighter bays. "Wing commanders, this is the XO. Launch CAP lances. Other lances go to alert stand-by." The CAP, or Combat Air Patrol, would make sure that the small fleet of DropShips had its necessary fighter cover. The other lances of four fighters each were to be placed in a ready-to-launch mode—just in case the Jaguars had somehow detected their approach. The other ships would do the same as a cautionary measure. He activated the command link between his screen and Cat Stirling's, and opened direct feeds of Lovat's intelligence information to the other Drop-Ships.

  On his own screen Loren saw the image of Wayside V loom even closer as the cameras zoomed in on their intended targets. Given the rotation of the planet and the positioning of the DropShips, the plan had called for them to make two orbital passes over the Jaguar base before landing. At present, the landing zones were in view as the slow rotation of the world below was matched by the speed of the DropShips.

  Captain Lovat's voice over the speaker seemed to shatter some of the tension. "Weather over the LZs is currently clear, and there is no sign of any Smoke Jaguar activity there. A storm front is moving in, however, and there's a fifty percent probability it will hit by the time we land."

  "Sensors picking up any activity?" Colonel Stirling asked.

  "Negative, Colonel," Colin replied. "At this distance we only get cursory information. But I should be able to get a full scan of the area within the next eight hours. We'll get a visual pass over the Jaguar base in the next thirty minutes."

  The next few minutes passed by quickly. Loren, through Captain Spillman, had the communications relays between the four DropShips confirmed. Behind them, at the jump point, the two JumpShips were deploying solar sails and using their thrusters to keep pace with the gravity well in which they had materialized.

  Wayside V rotated slowly below them until the high mountain spires of New Northwind came into view. Stark gray, they poked up above the clouds that covered the low-lying seas entirely. Captain Lovat kept the focus on the area, and when the thick cloud-cover blocked his view, his thermal cameras began their work, transforming the image of the planet into a series of reddish and black peaks and valleys. Finally he had a report. "Visuals on the Smoke Jaguar base are inconclusive at this time. Weather patterns are blocking direct line-of-sight surveillance. Our thermal sensors show some activity, most likely BattleMech reactor-heat venting. We still won't know what's there until the next orbital pass."

  Lovat's words only added to the tension Loren felt. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment in thought. This was the part he hated the most—the waiting.

  * * *

  Two hours passed with only idle conversation as the world below them grew larger and more predominant. On this orbital pass the sensors would provide a more detailed picture, but thus far they had not reported anything. As the landing zones came into view, Loren began to relax slightly. The Jags are nowhere near our LZs, just as we hoped. They're concentrated at their base. Lovat's voice shattered his train of thought, derailing it hopelessly. "Sensors are picking up fusion-reactor signatures, ten in number, fifty-three kilometers due east of the Red Landing Zone."

  Loren sprang to life. "XO here. Confirm message, ten reactors near Red LZ."

  "Confirmed, XO. I am feeding the data now through the tactical database. Stand by." Each BattleMech reactor engine provided a unique neutrino signature based on its shape and the placement of the engine. Though there was a wide degree of variance, depending on the damage the 'Mech h
ad taken or special modifications it carried, the signatures could be matched against the database of known sensor readings to provide close matches to the type of 'Mech that was on the surface below.

  Captain Lovat's voice was on a higher pitch when it came back. "Two Stars of 'Mechs, slow moving. Reactor signatures match those of Uller, Cauldron-Born, Mad Cat, Puma, and Masakari. Numbers as follows: First Star painted as Alpha Star is two Cauldron-Born and three Masakaris. Bravo Star shows as two Cauldron-Born, two Mad Cats, and a Puma." The screen shimmered to life with a tactical display of the area where the 'Mechs were. Loren looked at them, then back up to where Stirling stood over her display.

  "Those are OmniMechs, Major Jaffray," Colonel Stirling said, stating the obvious.

  "Affirmative, sir," he replied. "Spyglass, confirm readings."

  "Double-checked already, sir. Probabilities are eighty-five percent."

  Cat Stirling's face flushed with anger. "I'm not worried about the fact that they're near the LZs. What bothers me is that those are Omnis, and Omnis are usually reserved for front-line units."

  "They must be on a training exercise," Loren returned.

  "This isn't good," Stirling said as Captain Lovat's voice came back on, along with a flash of red light from Captain Spillman's station. "Active scan!" he called. As suddenly as the red light came on, it went off. Loren knew the implications—someone, somewhere had scanned the Claymore and most likely the rest of what suddenly seemed like a small task force. The lanky Highlander ship captain leaned over his display and studied it. "One thing's fer sure, lassie," he said to Stirling at his side. "Them kitty-cats know we're here."

  Loren ignored him, as did Stirling. "Where did that scan come from?" he asked Lovat over the microphone.

  "Coming in now, sir ... got it! South polar region. It looks like our cameras got an image." Loren's screen showed a slight blur at the edge of the horizon near the greenish sky. He was about to call for an enhancement of the image when Lovat sent the computer-enhanced image on the screen.

  The "bump" on the horizon had become a crisp, clear image of a ship. Loren saw it and initially thought it was a JumpShip, but one dangerously close to the atmosphere of the planet.

  Lovat gave him the answer he didn't want to hear. "Computer tags the scanning ship as an Essex Class destroyer. She popped up long enough to take a picture and scan of us, then disappear."

  "An Essex Class destroyer? " Spillman said from his seat. "Spyglass, tell me that yer bloody computer has made a mistake."

  Lovat's voice was down. "Sorry, Captain—Colonel. The Star League fielded those babies three centuries ago and we're still carrying the files in the ID system."

  Loren walked over to Cat Stirling, unsure what to say at the verification. Spillman turned to the Colonel and lowered his voice so no one else could hear. "Even with fighter support and four DropShips, that WarShip can take us out before we ever get close enough to do damage. One of those babies mounts long-range naval lasers and particle cannons, and their antiship missiles are big enough to pop this tin can wide open. Yer fighters can get in and wreak havoc, but in the end the results would be the same."

  "Hellfire," Stirling spat.

  "Colonel, the Jaguars are brutal, but most likely won't bid the use of their WarShip, given the size of our force," Loren said, almost whispering. "This is like the Omnis—what's important is the fact that the ship is here. A WarShip like that wouldn't be assigned to protect a garrison Cluster. From what we've already seen on the planet, I think it's safe to say we're facing a front-line Clan force."

  The look on Stirling's face told him she knew he was right. "Options are at a minimum here, Major. We can continue down, but with that WarShip there, the odds are in their favor."

  "Unless we can convince them to keep it out of the bidding," Loren added.

  She nodded. "The other option is to abort and return to the JumpShips."

  "Colonel," Captain Spillman said, "given our thrust rate and the descent angle and position of the JumpShips, it will take a lot to bring us to a stop, turn around, and head back to the jump point. In the meantime they'd be able to calculate our trajectory, spot the JumpShips, and move in on them. Unless my statistics knowledge is failin' me, that destroyer is more than fast enough to get there at or before the time we do."

  "You're suggesting we continue on then?" Stirling asked. He nodded, albeit reluctantly.

  "Hell of a way to enter a fight," she said. Her voice rose so that everyone could hear. "We continue on. Signal the other ships that we have to assume the Jags know we're coming from this point on. Assume a hot drop."

  The next four hours passed slowly as Loren poured over the scant data they'd gathered thus far. The next pass was the most important. With the sensors now within range to get accurate and detailed information, they'd be able to sweep the area in and around the Clan garrison base itself. Then they'd be able to detect any fusion reactors, even those that were shut down, and actually get an idea of what it was they were facing. Though there were no further sightings of the War-Ship, he knew it was out there—waiting.

  So now we know we aren't facing a mere Provisional Garrison Cluster. These are truebirth Warriors in their best equipment. Now we've just got to find out how many there are. "Spyglass, it's almost time," Loren finally said out loud. His words seemed to stir things to life on the bridge. Everyone had been lost to their duty, to their thoughts; now they would get more information, they would know what they were facing.

  There was a long pause as Captain Lovat ran the sensor sweeps across the surface of Wayside V. "Data incoming now, Major. Stand by." Another long pause.

  There must be something wrong. This is taking far too long. "Captain Lovat, report."

  "Still correlating data, Major," came Lovat's tense voice over the small speaker in the control console.

  "Captain, we just need a rough count up here," Loren prodded.

  Another silence was all that came back at first. "Scans of the area, combined with those of the two Stars at the LZ, show a total force of one hundred and seventy OmniMech reactors in various states of operation. We've also been able to confirm signatures of twenty-five OmniFighters at the aerobase and approximately one hundred Elemental suits."

  Loren was stunned. "Say again, Spyglass. One-seven-oh 'Mechs?"

  "Affirmative, XO," he replied.

  Loren looked over slowly at Colonel Stirling. The full regiment of the Fusiliers, along with Sho-sa Parkensen's additional company, amounted to less than a hundred BattleMechs. They had support craft and troops as well, but given the Smoke Jaguars' technological edge, the odds went from fair to horrific. "Colonel Stirling, we're facing a full Galaxy of frontline Smoke Jaguar forces." Loren's mind was racing as he forced his thoughts to how they might revise their plans to meet this totally unexpected situation.

  Cat Stirling stood like a statue, as if his words merely bounced off her like rain on stone. She too was obviously weighing the new intelligence and how it would impact her precious regiment. Finally she leanedloward Loren. "Turning back is not an option, Major."

  He nodded, knowing what she would do next. The Jaguars might not respond to the formal challenge of the batchall from an Inner Sphere unit, but it might still help define what the Clan commanders actually decided to throw at them.

  Colonel Stirling leaned over her console, activating several of the controls. "Communications Officer, link me on a wide beam for transmission to the Clan base as well as the other ships in our task force." It took less than half a minute.

  "Clan Smoke Jaguar, this is Colonel Andrea Stirling of Stirling's Fusiliers of the Northwind Highlanders. We have come to take this world from you and bring a regiment of combined arms forces to do so. We trace our heritage to service in the Star League Defense Force and beyond. We offer you an honorable fight. I don't expect you to answer this batchall, but I do expect you to defend yourself accordingly."

  10

  Wildcat Station

  Wayside V (Wildcat)
>
  Deep Periphery

  3 July 3058

  Galaxy Commander Devon Osis stared into the dim blue and red light of his holographic display for the fifth time, studying the words that hung in the space before him. Colonel Stirling's transmission had been converted to text for him to review as he waited for his Star Colonels to report. The message hovered in the air like the dagger that MacBeth had seen, bloody and threatening. Only one word ran through his mind: audacity. How dare this freebirth abomination interfere with my plans or those of the Khan?

  Star Colonel Roberta arrived first, her face showing the dull purple bruises from her fight with him. She bowed her head slightly as she entered, then stood at attention. On her shoulder patch was the outstretched jaguar paw, its claws dripping red blood, that marked her command of the Bloodied Claws Cluster.

  Star Colonel Patricia of the 250th Assault Cluster entered next. As the commanding officer of the Mist Pouncers, she fielded the largest of the Clan units on Wildcat Her appearance was distinctive, her jet black hair streaked with white like lightning bolts just over her ears. Her olive skin made her seem exotic, almost like the Jaguar namesake of the Clan she served.

  Tall, blonde, and blue-eyed, Star Colonel Thibideau Osis was almost her polar opposite. Thibideau's Deathstrike Cluster was small but powerful. He was of the same blood house as Devon, both men sharing the genetic heritage and a Bloodname of the House of Osis. Thibideau Osis was also the only Bloodnamed officer among the Huntress Galaxy commanders.

  "At ease," Devon Osis said as he motioned to the seats around his desk. Ever proud, Roberta chose to stand while the other two officers sat. "So, a mercenary regiment is on drop approach as we speak and will be on the surface of this world within seven hours." The message he had received from Colonel Stirling had been sent to the Star Colonels as well.

  "These are mercenary soldiers," Thibideau Osis said. "By their very nature they are inferior to us."