Impetus of War

by Blaine Lee Pardoe

"Say a prayer and hope that the good Lord's listening, lass," he replied. "We can't raise the Retribution, but I show her moving low, possibly for emergency landing. She might be trying to stay low enough to keep those Clanners from pursuit."

  "And that destroyer?" The question bonded Stirling, Spillman, and Loren together. If the Smoke Jaguar WarShip entered the fight, there was little hope of survival. It could orbitally bombard the ships as soon as they landed. From the images Loren had seen of the Smoke Jaguar attack on the city of Edo several years before, both the city and the ground it stood on had been melted into a black-gray glass in the bombardment. These Jaguars were dangerous foes, willing to do anything to win.

  There was a pause again, one that seemed to last a lifetime. "She's moved to high orbit. Out of range but in position to get us if we try to make a break for the JumpShip."

  Not only were the Fusiliers outnumbered, they were now trapped on Wayside. Apparently, though, the Jaguars were not planning to use the WarShip against them, probably as a result of their bidding. The Fusiliers might yet be able to use that to their advantage.

  There were several other orders on the line, all from Spillman to the other officers on the bridge. Loren caught only bits and pieces of them. "Message in from the Bull Run. They're still holding together with light to moderate damage. The Jaguars have broken off their attack, at least the ones that were left." A string of green lights came on in the Penetrator's cockpit, and the secondary display flashed the words "Landing Sequence Initiated." Spillman issued several more orders. "We're coming down in fifty seconds. All hands brace for landing."

  Colonel Stirling's voice came back on line. "XO, I want a tight perimeter-defense deployment."

  "Roger, Colonel," Loren replied.

  "Captain Spillman, any further word from the Stonewall?"

  "No sir. Communications down. Wait ... sensors show them jump-deploying BattleMechs." Jump deployment was risky but often used in "hot drop" situations. The Drop-Ship would open its doors and its BattleMechs would leap out, making manual landings. Hot drops were often employed to put an assault force down rapidly in the middle of the enemy without risking the DropShip. In this case, with the Stonewall so badly shot up, it was a desperate gamble to save lives should the ship crash on landing. Loren bit his lower lip.

  He opened a channel to the whole battalion aboard the Claymore. It was just fifteen seconds to landing, and his mind and heart were racing with excitement. "Major Jaffray to the Kilsyth Guards and regimental command. Deployment Pattern Bravo, say again, Deployment Pattern Bravo. Anyone who cannot deploy or is damaged, signal to your lance commanders."

  He rechecked his own systems and idled the power output from the fusion reactor to a higher level, enough to move the Penetrator and bring its powerful weapons to bear. Then he activated his sensors, but found them clouded by the bay. That's expected, but as soon as that door opens, I want a picture of where we are and what's happening out there.

  Though the Claymore landed with a jarring impact, it was softer than what Loren had expected. He activated the release, and the myomer straps that held the Penetrator in place fell loose, freeing his BattleMech. Just as he was about to fire at the deployment ramp/door, what was left of it popped open.

  The bay flooded with light, but the highly polarized cockpit glass blunted its assault. Outside Loren saw red clay covered with low grass or moss. The sky overhead was filled with clouds, black and dark blue, and rain was pelting down everywhere. In the distance, a lightning strike caught his attention as he thought for a moment that it was a PPC burst. The green sky showed through the clouds in several spots, enough to cast an eerie glow over the ground and the 'Mechs of the Fusiliers.

  The deployment sequence called for the lance on his flank to go first and they did. Loren followed them out the door, his weapons ready to engage. He opened his communications channel to the battalion commanders. "Fusiliers, deploy!"

  12

  Fusiliers LZ, Bay of Kurita Prime

  Wayside V (Wildcat)

  Deep Periphery

  3 July 3058

  Despite all the excitement surrounding their arrival and landing, Loren's first impression of Wayside V was one of disappointment. The terrain in and around the LZ was relatively flat and unbroken bright red soil. The plant life consisted of grasses, mosses, and scrawny vines that crawled over what rocks and stones broke the surface. The raging thunderstorm made visibility poor, but when lightning crackled, he could see what appeared to be mountains to the south of the LZ. That, of course, was an illusion. In reality, he and his men were sitting in an old sea bed, and those "mountains" were the tops of the continental shelves bordering what had once been the sea bottom when all of this had been kilometers under water.

  "XO to communications platoon. Priority to establishing the regimental communications link."

  Captain Jebediah Lewis was on the line in less than a second. "We're on it, XO. The Claymore's communications can't hail the other ships. We don't know if it's the storms, the communications systems, or what, but we'll get up ASAP."

  Loren moved his Penetrator further away from the Drop-Ship, coming up on top of a small rise to get a slightly better view. All around him was activity as the Fusiliers of the regimental command and First Battalion began the task of setting up defenses and breaking out the array of gear required to take a battalion into battle. He checked his tactical display and saw that they were at least an hour's travel from their intended LZ.

  He toggled the regimental channel, a direct laser-burst relay from this 'Mech to the DropShip and then down to the regimental CO. "Colonel, I suggest we use this as our base of operations until we can link up with the rest of the regiment."

  "Agreed," her disembodied voice replied. Loren saw from his tactical display that she was nearly a kilometer away, on the outer edge of the defensive perimeter being set up by the Fusiliers. "We're limited to battalion-level communications for a while. That means we'll have to track down the others the old-fashioned way. We need to find them and link up."

  "We can use First Company as a recon-in-force. Split them in half and send them to where the Bull Run and the Stonewall were supposed to land. Once we make contact with them, we can piggy-back the communications signal to them via the 'Mechs."

  "What about our PSL?"

  "The Retribution was supposed to come down in the middle of our triangle LZ pattern. If we find the edges, the center should be easy to spot, assuming any of the ships landed anywhere near their intended targets."

  "Understood and approved. Remember there are two Stars' worth of Clan Omnis nearby, and I don't want to give them anything that will help them locate us or know how bad off we are."

  "Roger. See you in a few hours sir," Loren returned.

  * * *

  The hours of scouring the rugged and shattered terrain of the LZ had not totally dulled Loren's senses, but it was getting close. The jagged rocks, the low, moss-covered scrub trees, all added an eerie sense of alien presence as he checked everywhere for a sign of the lost ships. Loren studied his display as he approached the Retribution's signal, his force spread out on his flanks. The Clan force he'd detected seemed to be located in a large depression. From the direction of their firing, he could tell that whoever they were fighting was also in the depression. As his ears buzzed with the rush of The Sensation, he knew he was going to have to tie down the Clan force to give his people time to move to a good position. Hitting their flanks will help us and get the most relief to Parkensen 's people.

  He opened a tight-beam comm channel, lasering his message to each of the 'Mechs in a confined beam. "Heads up, this is XO to all 'Mechs. I'm going in alone. Split off of me. Right flank move to the east and take up a position just outside their long sensor range equal to their current position. Same on the left flank."

  "There's five of them sir," Lieutenant Glenda Jura said.

  "You've got your orders. Hold all communications until my signal. I'm going to buy you time to get into flanking
positions."

  From the Penetrator"s cockpit Loren saw his people begin to deploy, moving to the flanks. Suddenly alone, he began to walk the Penetrator forward, directly toward the Clan position. At one hundred meters his sensors picked up magnetic signatures of other BattleMechs. Checking the tactical readout, he saw that he was facing a variety of Clan OmniMechs, from a Cauldron-Born to the menacing Masakari. Not only was he outnumbered, he was outgunned as well.

  Another fifty meters in his sensor sweeps showed the position of a downed DropShip. From all signs it was the Combine DropShip Retribution, or what was left of her. His scanners picked up debris readings in a long drag gully that had to be the result of a crash landing. DropShips like the Fortress Class were supposed to land on their struts straight down, but this one had obviously slid sideways for a very long distance. Her landing struts were gone, shredded from impact. Her 'Mech bays were ripped wide open.

  The battle had apparently been raging for some minutes, Loren's thermal sensors showing errant missile misses and the recognizable images of downed and probably destroyed BattleMechs. The PSL company was beleaguered, with only half their original force operational, hardly a match for the Smoke Jaguars. At the edge of his sensors Loren saw the other Star's worth of Jaguar OmniMechs.

  Loren paused and drew in a deep breath before opening his wide-beam frequency, exposing himself to every Clan OmniMech in the field. The only good thing was that it would also tell the PSL's beleagued forces that help had arrived. "This is Major Loren Jaffray of Stirling's Fusiliers of the Northwind Highlanders. Break off your attack. I offer you a Trial of Possession for the DropShip Retribution." He paused. This was a gamble—and a fluke if they accepted his challenge—and he knew it. He saw that the Jaguar forces were pulling back, turning their active sensors on him, attempting to determine if it was a trap.

  After a long pause, a signal came back from one of the Jaguar 'Mechs. "You are mercenary freebirths unworthy of the honor of engaging us in a batchall."

  Good, I got their attention. "Who dares challenge my integrity and honor?" Loren looked again at his long-range sensors and saw that the replying 'Mech was a menacing Masakari, a BattleMech the Clans called the Warhawk.

  Another voice from off his short-range sensors came on line. "Major Jaffray, this is Sho-sa Parkensen. I order you to break off this attack. This enemy is mine!" There was grim anger in Parkensen's tone, but from what Loren could see, the PSL's force had little hope.

  "With all due respect, Sho-sa, I'm trying to save your butt. My orders come from Colonel Stirling. You can argue protocol with her later. For now, cut the chatter and stand by for reinforcement and possible evac." Whatever Parkensen might have replied was lost just then when another voice came over the wide-band channel, cutting him off.

  "I am Star Captain Kerndon of the Smoke Jaguars, the true Clan and heir to the legacy of the great Kerenskys and holders of the Star League's heritage. I declare your batchall invalid and further declare that you and your unit are all bandit waste that we will drive into the ground of this forsaken planet."

  Star Captain Kerndon apparently thought the taunt wasn't enough. "And if you think otherwise, you swine, come and face me like true warriors. I promise you a death that will strike fear among your filthy freebirth offspring for years to come."

  Loren actually smiled as he broke the Penetrator into a full charge straight at Kerndon's OmniMech. "You refuse our challenge to an honorable fight?" he asked.

  "Aff, you honorless trashborn."

  Loren smiled in the tight space of his neurohelmet. "Have it your way . . ." He paused, trying to come up with the biggest insult he could for the Jaguar warrior. Then it hit him, and he shouted a single word—"Bastard!"

  The insinuation that a Clan warrior was born to biological parents and was not the superior product of engineering was the most stunning verbal assault he could launch, and Kerndon's speechlessness made him think the shot had hit its mark. Loren activated his own unit's communications channel to his two deployed forces. "Fusiliers, attack! Have at 'em!"

  He broke to the right the instant he came into range of the Masakari's massive extended-range particle projection cannons. The Clan PPCs were deadly and the Omni mounted four of them, enough to take out his 'Mech in a single volley if the shots were good. His break to the right made tracking a little more tricky, sparing him. Kerndon fired with all four of the weapons at once. The incoming blue blasts mixed in with the background lightning and seemed to light up the entire hillside as they reached out for his Penetrator.

  Two of the bolts missed narrowly, but the static-discharging energy leaped out and scarred the Penetrator's upper right arm. One of the PPC bursts ripped into the armor of his upper-right torso just above his triple pack of Sutel pulse lasers, exploding the armor plating outward and pushing the 'Mech back hard as the second blast hit in the right leg. It was the leg hit that worried him the most, the bolts of energy tearing through the upper thigh of his Penetrator's bird-like leg like a hot knife through butter. Green coolant oozed from the gash and down over the 'Mech's knee, dripping like blood from a wound.

  He fired at the same time as the Masakari, scoring deep hits on the frontal armor of the OmniMech. Two more bursts of PPC fire and a volley of ten long-range missiles replied, racing and ripping at him. Anticipating the counter-volley, Loren abruptly slammed his Penetrator into a hard left turn at the last moment. One of the PPC bolts hit his lower torso, rocking the Penetrator; the other fell short, hitting the ground in front of him. The water-soaked clay exploded, throwing rocks and dirt against his legs like shrapnel.

  The missiles twisted to follow his sudden darting action, some more tightly than others. Four of the missiles found their mark, splattering against the wet surface of the Penetrator's massive right arm and torso. The explosions caught the Penetrator mid-stride, making Loren bite his lower lip, drawing blood. His ears were ringing as he scanned the Masakari. Damnation, that bastard is still running cool. If that were my 'Mech, I'd be roasted alive by now.

  He raised his own extended-range large lasers and fired at the Masakari the instant his targeting and tracking system squealed a lock signal in his neurohelmet. The ruby-red streams of laser energy hit the ferro-fibrous armor of the Clan Omni in the torso, frying off armor plates with a barely audible popping sound, but doing no damage internally. I've got to even the odds and fast. This guy is configured for long-range combat. PPCs and LRMs are ineffective at point-blank range.

  In mid-step Loren ignited his jump jets, lifting the Penetrator's 75 tons up from the muddy clay into the storm-filled skies, heading straight for the Masakari. Star Captain Kerndon started to walk his 'Mech backward, opening up again with two of his PPCs and his missiles. The PPCs went wide of their mark, but all ten missiles streaked toward the Penetrator.

  A steady stream of beeps from Loren's anti-missile system indicated that it was locked onto the warheads, and he engaged it without even thinking. The anti-missile cannon fired off a seeming wall of shot into the path of the incoming missiles. There was a series of explosions, but three missiles still managed to speed through, slamming into the center of his Penetrator's boxy chest.

  Loren landed the 'Mech hard, sinking the machine's giant feet into the moist clay, then he fired his large lasers again at the Clan 'Mech. There was a hit and several misses as his foe took several more steps backward. His tactical display showed that the Fusilier force was on the far flanks of Kerndon's position, slugging it out with the other Clan Omnis. Kerndon's onto my tactics and knows that maintaining distance is his best hope. With desperate daring, Loren throttled the Penetrator forward into a full run, pushing the machine to its absolute maximum and aiming straight at the towering Omni as it fired squarely at him.

  Four PPCs and a wave of long-range missiles blasted at Loren, a glowing flash of sheer death and destruction. All the PPCs found their mark, but Loren had no time to assess the damage. The impact of the assault was square and direct and of such force that his arms ached as
he fought to keep the massive 'Mech upright. A wave of nausea came over him as feedback from the damage raced into his neurohelmet, further pitching his sense of balance. Bile rose in his throat and his eyes fluttered as he strained to keep the Penetrator, charging at his target. He ignored the whistles and beeps of the warning alarms in the cockpit, fighting to stay conscious.

  A sick metallic grinding told him the truth of his antimissile system. Gone—it's been destroyed! The enemy missiles slammed into him, spreading damage everywhere to his 'Mech.

  He opened up with everything the Penetrator had left, his large lasers cutting deeply into the heart of the Masakari. The pulse lasers' tiny bursts of red light were like a shotgun blast, burning a half-dozen holes into the arms of the Clan 'Mech. Kerndon stepped back eight more steps, to maintain distance. Loren matched his strides in a full run, fighting his own dizziness and the raging heat of his cockpit.

  Suddenly Kerndon stopped. A flash of lightning showed him backed up against the ripped and torn hull of what had been the DropShip Retribution. And so close that it was next to impossible for him to use the particle cannons that made up the bulk of his firepower.

  Next to impossible . . .

  Kerndon's voice came alive in Loren's cockpit like a specter taunting him from beyond the grave. "Your 'Mech is nearly overheated, fool. Freebirth trash, today you die." The Clanner switched off the field inhibitors for his PPCs one at a time. With the field inhibitors off, the PPCs could fire at point-blank range, though doing so risked totally destroying the weapons.

  Loren could trigger one of his large lasers, but that was about it—anything else and his 'Mech would shut down from overheating. As testimony to his plight, the sheets of rain slamming at the Penetrator began turning into a smokelike vapor from the heat on his surface armor. But he was sure there had to be a way out. He scanned the DropShip behind Kerndon. The outer hull was holed and pitted in several areas, with many plates ripped open from the sliding on impact. Inside the ship, his sensors picked up a massive reading of thermal insulation, the kind of signature used to house explosives or.. .