"Damn," was all Cullen Craig could muster.
"Damn is right," Stirling said. "Major Blakadar, she knows we scanned the area. What do you think she'll do?"
"I'd assume my plan was blown," the large officer replied. "I'd throw everything I had at you and get this over with."
"Just what I was a-thinkin'," Colonel Stirling returned. "And two can play at that game." She turned to the new leader of the Kilsyth Guards. "Major Fuller, have Captain Lewis and his combined arms folks hunker down here in the rear as we planned. Then take one of your companies and go after Roberta's little surprise group. The rest of your force will assist the Black Adders on the right flank from the isthmus floor."
"Yes, sir," Fuller replied with a salute.
"And you, Blackie," Stirling said. "Get your Black Adders ready and begin moving them up onto New Northwind on the east side of the isthmus, as planned. Major Craig, ready your forces for assault."
Stirling stood looking at her officers for a moment, hands on her hips. "Remember, lads," she said finally, "we're not here to beat them or grind them into pulp. We're here to bloody them and get away. Major Jaffray is bringing us help. We just have to hurt them bad enough to force them to take time to lick their wounds."
* * *
"Do not mince words with me, Star Captain," Star Colonel Roberta said sharply into her cockpit microphone. Sitting and waiting for battle was not her strong suit. The cockpit of her 'Mech seemed to get smaller with each breath she took, closing in around her. It frustrated her that the Fusiliers were less than a kilometer from where she stood, digging in and waiting for her to come and get them.
Her plan was sound, the force that she had sent around the continent was slow-moving, but would slam into the Fusiliers' rear at the same time she started her assault. Sandwiched into the straits between the continents, the Fusiliers would be pinned in and destroyed to the last man and woman.
Star Captain Klark Chrisholm answered calmly. "A satellite was detected running active scans of your current area of operations. We have destroyed it and several others that have been detected thus far."
"Were we successfully scanned?"
"Unknown, Star Colonel. I know scanning was done, but I have no way of knowing if it was successful or if the information was relayed to the Fusiliers."
The raging fire that Star Colonel Roberta had managed to suppress until now suddenly began to burn through her heart. An anger beyond raw frustration, a fury born of a lifetime of combat and the genes of warriors dating back two centuries erupted in her cockpit at that moment. Her face seemed to contort with anger. "My plan is ruined!"
"I do not know that for sure, Star Colonel," Klark Chrisholm said.
"I do, you insolent kit," she snapped. She turned and looked out the viewport of her Executioner and surveyed the rocky outcroppings that loomed before her. We have been toying with these Fusiliers long enough. It is time they face the full fury of the Smoke Jaguar.
26
Isthmus of Bannockburn
Wayside V (Wildcat)
Deep Periphery
10 July 3058
"Colonel," came the voice of Captain Lovat over the secure channel, immediately waking Cat Stirling from a slight doze as she sat waiting in the cockpit of her Grand Titan. "Perimeter pickets are picking up numerous OmniMechs throttling up their reactors." Like most of the Fusiliers still on Wayside, she'd gotten little real sleep in the past few days as they prepared for the assault on the isthmus.
"Do you think this is it?" she asked, the urgency of his words waking her like a splash of ice cold water. She checked her chronograph and saw that light would not dawn for several hours more. The pitch-dark night would work to everyone's disadvantage.
"I think so," Lovat came back.
"Time to play then." Stirling activated her command channel, which would send her voice to every company and lance commander waiting out there in the night. "This is Colonel Stirling. The Jags are on the move. Battalion commanders, execute Plan Alpha. Black Adders, await my order."
There was a long silence, at least a full five minutes where nothing happened. Cat Stirling surveyed the area, knowing that somewhere out there in the darkness, her faceless enemy, Star Colonel Roberta, was finally coming.
Then it happened. The ground of the central isthmus shook as if a stampede of buffalo were rushing toward them. In the distance where Craig's battalion was holding the front line, the night lit up as several Elementals rose into the air above them, their bright rain of short-range missile fire hitting the Fusilier BattleMechs below. Down on the ground lightninglike blue flashes of PPC fire filled the narrow confines of the rocky outcroppings. Laser light, pulsing red and green, a literal wall of raw energy and pure death, also came pouring at the Fusiliers.
"First and Second Battalions, engage!" Stirling ordered her forces in the isthmus as she walked her Grand Titan out from behind its rocky cover. She dropped her targeting cross hairs onto a Loki, the first Jaguar 'Mech to emerge into view in the pass, having charged through the heart of the Fusilier defense at a full run. Her long-range missiles raced from their rack, arcing slightly to catch up with their moving target, tearing into the legs and hips of her foe. The missiles were followed by fire from her paired large pulse lasers, which ripped into the Loki's right arm and hit its shoulder-mounted missile rack. The battle was engaged.
* * *
Out ahead of the rest of the Fusiliers, Major Cullen Craig's Victor was hit so hard in the torso by a slug from a Gauss rifle that his 'Mech was almost knocked off its feet.
The birdlike Vulture stalking toward him was responsible. With just the Gauss rifles as weapons, that 'Mech was going to run cold as ice, while Craig would have to deal with ever-building heat.
With cold precision he leveled his own Gauss rifle at the approaching Vulture. Apparently guessing his intention, the Jaguar 'Mech pivoted its lower torso, keeping its weapons lock on Craig's Victor but moving laterally across his field of fire. Craig compensated with the skill of a great marksman and let go his shot. The Gauss slug hit the Vulture's stubby right arm, ripping it clean off. Sparks flew from the shoulder attachment, followed by smoke.
The Jaguar was unrelenting. Firing with its remaining arm, the injured 'Mech caught the Victor just below its left kneecap. As the temperature in Craig's cockpit began to spike, he also felt his 'Mech's balance shift as he struggled to compensate for the hit. Switching to his second target-interlock circuit, he brought his short-range missiles and medium pulse lasers to bear. The instant he heard a lock tone in his neurohelmet earpiece, he punched the trigger button, pumping fire into the torso of the Vulture.
The Smoke Jaguar closed in as its remaining Gauss rifle loaded another round. The weapon lifted to track Craig just as another 'Mech appeared nearby in the flickering shadows of the early-morning darkness. Craig yanked on his throttle and began to pull his 'Mech back, maintaining the distance between him and the Vulture as he moved his own rifle into firing position.
The newly arrived 'Mech, a Fusilier by its markings, opened up with a barrage of PPC fire squarely into the back of the Vulture. There was a brilliant burst of blue light, and for a moment the Vulture was silhouetted in the darkness. Craig watched as it stumbled forward one more step before it lost its balance and fell.
The moment it hit the ground, he saw yet another Jaguar rush in to take its place, this time a Mad Cat. The Clan 'Mech fired a wall of long-range missiles into the 'Mech that had just saved Craig, and in the lights of the missile warhead going off, he saw the familiar outline of the Hatamoto-chi, the BattleMech piloted by Sho-sa Elden Parkensen.
Craig throttled his 'Mech forward again just as an Elemental landed on his torso, firing its stubby laser madly into the sidewall of his Victor's cockpit. If he ever made it out of here alive, he would definitely owe Parkensen a big one.
* * *
Just below and to the left of his current position, Major Kurt Blakadar watched as the fireworks of the battle erupted. He'd been busy g
etting his two companies of Black Adders up onto New Northwind, then back down into the isthmus on the other side of the peninsula, facing the rear south flank of the Jaguar's forces. Stealth and extensive use of thermal tarps and light ECM had kept their movement from being detected. It had taken a full day to get his troops into position, and now the payoff would come. Thus far, the Jaguars didn't seem to know they were there—and that's the way he wanted to keep it.
The trip down the rocky outcroppings had been treacherous, with no paths to ease their progress. The battle was two kilometers away, and from what he could see from the lights and bursts of explosives, it was as vicious as any scene from hell.
A part of him wanted to disobey his orders and charge immediately into the flank and rear of the Smoke Jaguars. But he knew better. Those who defied Andrea Stirling rarely lasted long. No, he would wait until the signal was sent.
"Adder Leader," came a harried voice over the commline on the secure command channel. "This is Craig. Get your butt in here and fast. We're getting pasted."
"Negative," Blakadar said, wiping the sweat from his palms onto the shorts he wore to withstand the heat of a 'Mech cockpit. "I'm waiting for Cat One to make that call."
"Damn it, Kurt, we don't even know if she's still alive. Get your ass in here." There was a hint of panic in Craig's voice. A hiss of static cut off the conversation, proof that the Jaguars were using electronic countermeasures to jam the communications channels.
Blakadar didn't even want to think about the possibility that the Colonel was dead. He was the acting Executive Officer. Her death would pass command of the regiment to him. A trapped regiment, pinned down on an unforgiving planet with only scant hope of survival. He revved his 'Mech's fusion reactor up a little higher to prepare to move out. The powerful Albatross vibrated as if it too were ready to race into the battle.
Again, he told himself no. If the Colonel were dead, someone would have communicated it. He would hold until he got word one way or another. With the use of ECM in the area, it was possible Colonel Stirling had been cut off from communications. As much as he wanted to charge his companies into the gap, he resisted the urge. The only question was, how long could he continue to do so?
* * *
"Holy crudstunk!" yelled Major Jake Fuller at the sight of the wave of enemy 'Mechs coming at them. "Have at 'em, boys and girls!" he shouted into his neurohelmet microphone. Then he quickly switched his comm channel to the regimental command net. "Cat One, this is Guard One. Enemy engaged."
There was no reply, and no way of knowing if something prevented the Colonel from doing so or if she was just too busy. Either way he had his own problems. His two lances of Kilsyth Guards had encountered the Smoke Jaguar sneak-attack force in the early morning hours. The Jags had charged right past Fuller's encampment, either not detecting the Guards' presence or simply ignoring them in their fury to attack the rear of the Fusiliers' formation. Fuller had powered up and hit their rear flank just as the Jaguars realized what was happening. Now, all hell was breaking loose.
This isn't how I like fighting, alone and without support. We 're eighty klicks from the isthmus and if we don't stop them here, the survivors will still manage to pull off their attack. Everyone in Blakadar's command understood the situation, and knew they had to win the battle. "Time to die, kitties," he muttered as he leaped into the fray.
Three Elementals rose up into the night sky ahead of him, firing their shoulder racks of short-range missiles into him with deadly precision. Jake turned his Cerberus and broke into a run, blasting the airborne Elementals with his four medium pulse lasers. Then he shifted the twin arm-mounted Gauss rifles to a different target interlock, knowing that the powerful weapons would be useless against the Elementals he was engaging. His laser burst lit up the early morning darkness, and two of them found their mark. One of the Elementals lost its leg to the fire, the other took the hit in his chest. The legless one tumbled to the ground out of control. The second recoiled, knocked back by the armor being blasted from its chest. It flew backward, away from Jake.
Another Elemental rose in front of Jake, firing an armmounted laser at his Cerebus's chest, hoping to hit the 'Mech's fusion heart. He saw, in amazement, that it was the Elemental whose leg had been shot off only a few moments before. Rising into the air on a lone jet, fully throttled open, the Elemental was coming in for the kill as if he hadn't been hurt at all.
As the young brevet Major let go with both his Gauss rifles, his only thought was that if anything happened to this unit, Major Jaffray would have his butt in latrine duty for the rest of his natural life.
* * *
Major Kurt Blakadar throttled up again for the third time, his Albatross now running at full battle level. He listened to the command channel as he had for the past ten minutes, but all that came through was static. Suddenly he heard a voice, clear and crisp, shattering the static as it spoke.
"Cat One to Adder One, engage, engage, engage."
For a moment he wasn't sure if he'd actually heard the voice, or if it was some kind of waking dream. Beads of sweat dripped from his brow inside the neurohelmet, stinging his eyes. He was frozen, but only for a second. In that moment Kurt Blakadar decided that even if it was a dream, his own mind playing tricks on him, he couldn't wait any longer.
"Black Adders . .." he signaled on his battalion's channel. "Let's roll!"
27
Isthmus of Bannockburn
Wayside V (Wildcat)
Deep Periphery
10 July 3058
Star Colonel Roberta pivoted hard as a lightweight Wolf Trap bearing the emblem of a twisting black snake fired its LB X autocannon and long-range missiles at her. The image of the snake burned in her mind as she saw it through her infrared filters. When the 'Mech appeared she'd just been closing on a massive Hatamoto-chi with the intention of engaging the magnificent BattleMech in one-on-one combat. Most of the new enemy's incoming missiles streaked past her Executioner, missing entirely, but the autocannon hit true, chewing away at her torso armor. She targeted her large lasers at the smaller 'Mech and fired, bathing both arms of the Trap in a blaze of red light and fury.
A glance at her tactical display showed her nearly two dozen Fusilier BattleMechs closing in on the isthmus to her left flank and rear, coming at her force from behind. "Gamma Strike Star, pull to the rear flank and lay down a pattern of suppression fire. Attention, Bloodied Claws, the enemy is at our rear. Rally to me and we shall crush them!"
A hit in her side again forced her to turn as a Fusilier Jenner raced past her, firing as it ran. Half its medium lasers missed, but the others sliced through her left-arm armor, popping it as they blew. Angry at the insult, Roberta leveled her Gauss rifle at the sprinting 'Mech and fired.
The silvery round passed straight through the Jenner's right torso, bursting out the other side. Its ammunition stores exploded, and despite its cellular storage protection, the small 'Mech exploded in a blinding flash of light. Somehow the Jenner pilot had managed to eject at the last possible moment, riding the shock wave of the explosion up into the night. Then the pilot's parasail opened, and she started to drift back down toward the isthmus floor.
Roberta fixed her gaze on the Fusilier Mech Warrior. All she saw was an enemy, a foe who had fought well, but a foe nevertheless. She ran the nearly seventy-five meters to where the warrior was coming down.
With full knowledge of her actions, she dropped her targeting sight on the Fusilier warrior and opened up with her machine gun. The first two shots hit, while the others simply shook the Fusilier's dead body, hanging limp in the harness of the chute, with each impact.
Roberta activated the commline to her command officers. "Leave no survivors," she said. "Eat them alive."
Roberta licked her lips and looked at the distant Hatamoto-chi with renewed gusto. The tall 'Mech loomed like a giant, calling her to battle, calling her to death.
* * *
Colonel Andrea Stirling moved in on the right flank of her in
fantry position just as what was left of the Smoke Jaguars reached the same point. The Jaguars who had made it this far had plowed through her Fusiliers, rushing to the rear to wreak havoc. It was quite a feat. Though only a Star in size, the group was formidable in composition—a Dragonfly, a Cauldron-Born, a Koshi, a Stormcrow, and a Hanyu. They were damaged from running the gauntlet of her troops, but their charge showed there was still fight boiling in their pilots' bellies. It was far from a calming thought.
Captain Jebediah Lewis's regular infantry were dug in on the hard rock floor, opening fire with inferno missiles and manpack PPCs as the Clan Omnis moved into firing position. Stirling drew a lock on one of them, a Dragonfly, then opened up at long range with her large lasers and long-range missiles. A familiar wave of heat rose in her cockpit, but she ignored it.
The odd stance of the light Dragonfly hurt it during side attacks like the one Cat Stirling had just made. Its weapons pod-arm comprised almost all of the target area. Both lasers hit the limb first, gutting the armor plating and filling Stirling's infrared display with a burst of light as the ferro-fibrous plate exploded. Her missiles, aided by their fire-control computer, burrowed in on the limb in quick secession.
Parts of the arm's internal structure exploded off, and the last two missiles passed straight into the torso of the Dragonfly. She saw a spray of green coolant in the night as a flame seemed to lick at the Jaguar OmniMech, followed a millisecond later by an ammunition explosion of the short-range missile rounds in the mangled stump of the arm. The CASE doors, too twisted to open, did not release the explosion. Instead the full force of the blast blew the torso armor off the Dragonfly. The 'Mech listed under the force of the arm explosion, yet remained standing.
Impetus of War Page 19
