"What party?"
"In case you haven't heard," Loren said, "I've invited company to dinner. In fact, they've probably already jumped into another point in the system."
Mulvaney activated the internal intercom. "Attention all senior officers. That meeting we had in five minutes, make it fifteen. And drinks are on the Kilsyth Guards."
46
New Sherwood Forest, New Scotland
Wayside V (Wildcat)
Deep Periphery
8 August 3058
"I want you all to know you've done an outstanding job," Colonel Andrea Stirling broadcast from the cockpit of her Grand Titan. Her ragtag force was down to just over a battalion, gathered now at the edge of what had once been a mighty forest when life still existed on this continent they'd named New Scotland. South of her position by nearly ten kilometers were the forces of the Smoke Jaguars.
The petrified rock trees were massive, often as much as six meters in diameter. Many had fallen, forming natural corridors and alleys of fire and movement. The terrain surrounding the forest was flat broad plains. The ages-old forest offered the only real protection for kilometers.
"The Jags have been sitting out there for over a day, sir, just sitting and watching us. What in the name of Hades are they up to?" Major Blakadar called in from his 'Mech.
"If I was Devon Osis, I'd be studying the terrain," Stirling said. "Running recons along the perimeter, learning everything I could about this forest before I committed my troops. Trust me, he's not sitting out there trembling. He's a Smoke Jaguar warrior—our worst nightmare.
"But we've got a few things going for us. One, this terrain is just as deadly to them as it is to us. They may not know it any better than we do, which should be an advantage. Also, there's something they haven't counted on, something all their blasted Clan warrior training never prepared them for—the fact that they're facing Northwind Highlanders." A momentary cheer went up.
"We're trying to buy us some time, folks," Kurt Blakadar said. "Stick to our plan. Fire either from the forest out at them, or lure them in. Make them pay for this fight, pay with their blood and their lives for every meter they take. Remember, Mulvaney and her people must have arrived by now. All we've got to do is give them lights to find us by."
"The Kilsyth Guards stand ready, sirs," Jake Fuller reported. The Guards now consisted of only five 'Mechs, the three used in the aerodrome attack, and two more, Lieutenants Uther and Amari.
"Black Adder Recon Three," came another voice over the speakers of the gathered Highlanders, sending a ripple of unseen tension into the air. "Jags on the prowl. Moving this way. It looks like they're coming in force. Confirm, all Stars on the move."
Stirling smiled inside her neurohelmet. "Lads and lasses, break into your fire groups and brace for them. No matter what else happens, today we're going to send them all to hell ..." She pivoted her Grand Titan and moved into the forest next to a gigantic tree of rock.
* * *
"We will be on them in a matter of seconds," Star Colonel Patricia reported from the cockpit of her Timber Wolf, the thrill of combat in her voice. She had began the rush forward with her three Binaries of OmniMechs in perfect formation, heading straight at the stone forest. The hope had been to wait out the Highlanders, let them come out at her force. When that did not happen, she had opted for a direct and one-shot approach.
"Flame Claw Binary is on the far right eastern flank, still outside their scanners. We will hit them from the front, then Flame Claw will sweep in and wipe them out." Her own Alpha Veiled Death Binary was in the center formation, with Devon Osis in position in the front ranks. On her left western flank was the Beta Stabber Strike Binary. The Stabbers and Veiled Death were racing forward, while Flame Claw was moving to the far east to sweep in on the side of the Fusiliers, taking their fight to deadly close range.
"Leave nothing to chance. And leave not a shred of these Fusiliers behind," Devon Osis said angrily from the cockpit of his Dire Wolf. "Our mission is to destroy the cursed Nova Cats, not go chasing around after filthy freebirth mercenaries. We've already wasted too much time on them." Osis did not mention the loss of his aerofighter forces or how much more time they would lose rebuilding the 101st Cluster.
"They will pay dearly for their insolence, Galaxy Commander. Of that I assure you," Patricia said.
As the Huntress Galaxy warriors began their charge, Devon Osis saw the flicker and flash of lasers burning lightly in the thin atmosphere as they lanced toward the Fusiliers hiding like children behind their rock-fortified positions. PPC barrages and the flame tongues of missiles also lashed out from the advancing line of Smoke Jaguar OmniMechs, shredding the terrain before hitting their targets. The Fusiliers' return fire, though hardly as ferocious, slowed some of the momentum of the charge as several Jaguar 'Mechs took hits.
Devon Osis preheated his weapons pod as he searched for an undeclared target. He watched with glee as a Fusilier Wyvern, rising up and backward on its jump jets, came under a volley of deadly fire from one of his lead unit's PPCs. The shot hit the Wyvern's leg and spun the skinny-framed 'Mech as it fired its lasers and short-range missiles in a wild volley that rocked a trio of Jaguar 'Mechs. Freed from their bonds of honor, all three Jaguars opened fire on the Wyvern as it attempted a sprawled landing. Their barrage consumed the 'Mech in a laser inferno.
As he and his warriors came to the edge of the petrified forest, Devon Osis opened a commline to his warriors. "Huntress Galaxy, they are falling back. Rip their hearts out. Show them the fury of the Smoke Jaguar!" Missile and laser fire, the rage and roar and fury of battle erupted all around him.
Suddenly his open commline squealed with a noise, a mournful bellowing that sent a cold chill through him. What was that? Music? The lament of bagpipes? The tactic was primitive but useful, the enemy jamming communications with background noise. His Star Commanders were attempting to communicate with him, but their voices were blurred by the wail of the pipes over the commline.
Just then something rocked Devon Osis's Dire Wolf from behind with a force so mighty it tore off pieces of his aft armor and sent them spraying over his head and cockpit. From behind? Impossible! Osis spun his massive OmniMech and saw a DropShip sweep past, dropping BattleMechs from its open bay. The newly fielded 'Mechs were firing at his Jaguars, hitting them on their right flank, cutting them off from the Flame Claw Binary being held in reserve.
"This is Major Chastity Mulvaney of MacLeod's Regiment of the Northwind Highlanders," bellowed a voice over the comm. "Surrender your forces or we'll pound you to snail snot."
* * *
"It's Mulvaney!" Kurt Blakadar called out over the lower band used whenever the Highlanders were jamming enemy communications.
"Right flank hold," ordered Cat Stirling. "Left flank Guards advance to your forward firing positions and hold there." Her hands flicked quickly over the comm channel as she contacted her sister forces. "Nice of you to drop in, Major Mulvaney."
Stirling then fired a wave of short-range missiles, but knew her ammo was starting to run low. In the distance, a Jaguar Uller took half the wave of missiles, the 'Mech's armor shredding away as it ran past.
"Some duty," Mulvaney returned. "I'm pushing through their lines to link up with you."
"Right," Stirling said. Though surprise had given Mulvaney's force a momentary advantage, it would not protect them against the fury of the Jaguar Cluster. She lifted her head just as a laser shot raked its way across her 'Mech's torso from somewhere across the battlefield. Suddenly torn open, the chest of her Grant Titan spilled out a rush of air, the blasted armor peeling back from the inside out.
"Push forward, Black Adders. We've got to get our relief force in here with us before they get toasted. Open up, Fire Corridor Bravo." Despite the heavy firepower and deadly aim of the Clan warriors, her people were giving back as good as they got.
"Major Jaffray sends his greetings," Chastity Mulvaney said, even as she was firing.
"He's back?" Cat Stir
ling felt a wave of relief and satisfaction.
"Can't talk now, Colonel. Suffice it to say he's got a plan."
* * *
Loren Jaffray's battered OmniMech force moved in on the right flank of the Jaguar force almost casually. The orders he'd given were clear and simple—no communications with any of the Smoke Jaguars. Fire when the Clan units around them were engaged by the Fusiliers or Mulvaney's forces, but shoot to miss.
Taking advantage of the confusion set off by Chastity Mulvaney's drop and using the IFF transponders that identified them as Smoke Jaguars, he'd been able to infiltrate his small force into the midst of the battle. Captain Spillman had dropped them nearly five kilometers from the battle site, reluctantly accepting orders to hold his position there in case Loren's force needed extraction in the middle of the battle.
They were more spare parts than anything else. McBride's Vulture had more patch armor than original, and the pair of Masakaris—Loren's and Lieutenant Hector's—were missing armor plates where replacements could not be fitted. Kerndon, with help from the rest of the unit, had somehow managed to get the Black Hawk operational enough to at least pose some sort of threat in battle.
Sumpter Burke's Dasher was present even if its pilot wasn't. Burke had come down with a bad fever that had quickly turned into pneumonia. Loren needed the 'Mech, even if just for the sake of having another body. In the end he'd been forced to draft a MechWarrior into service in the guise of one Captain Mitchell Fraser. As a tech, Fraser was fully qualified in piloting, but his gunnery skills were questionable. Loren remembered Fraser's delicate phrasing after he'd finally "volunteered" for the mission: "Major, I couldn't hit the broadside of a barn if I was in it!"
Loren looked up into the star-speckled night sky of Wayside and knew that the Nova Cats were, at that very minute, arriving at their jump point, their DropShips ready to begin blazing their way straight here. They'll scan the planet, recognize the Smoke Jaguars and the Fusiliers. The Cats won't give a damn about us. They come to fight the Jaguar and that is what they will do.
Over the commline came the sound of a new voice above the din of battle. Loren recognized it instantly.
"Attention, Tau Galaxy of Clan Smoke Jaguar. I am Star Colonel Santin West of Clan Nova Cat. May your hackles rise in fear, the Nova Cat now enters the fray. With what forces do you defend this planet?"
47
New Sherwood Forest
New Scotland, Wayside V (Wildcat)
Deep Periphery
8 August 3058
"They're pulling back," Chastity Mulvaney said to Cat Stirling over the commline, stunned to see the Jaguar force break into full-scale withdrawal to just beyond range of the Fusiliers' weapons. She held a forward position overlooking the flat open ground extending from the fallen rock-tree that provided cover for the lower portion of her Marauder II. Only two dozen meters from her position, the forest came to an abrupt end, opening onto the no-man's land across which she had rushed her forces a few minutes before.
"Why would they pull back now, Colonel? The Nova Cats won't be landing for a while."
"They see us as small change," Cat Stirling said. "To them, the Nova Cats are the real threat. There's no honor in facing us—a bunch of mercenaries." She brought her Grand Titan alongside Mulvaney's Marauder II. "This buys us some time to get our injured out. Your DropShip is now at our rear. We'll get some of these 'Mechs out of here. One lance at a time, rotational, if only to give them a chance to clean their filters and recyclers."
"Understood," Mulvaney said, then issued the necessary orders.
"Now then, where's my Executive Officer?" Stirling asked
sternly.
"He and his men are in the middle of the Smoke Jaguar force, Colonel. Posing as Jaguar warriors to hit them from the inside—when the time is right."
"Once the Nova Cats land, that battleground's going to turn into a graveyard," Stirling said. "I sure as hell hope he knows what he's doing."
* * *
"It is impossible that they come here, now," Devon Osis said to himself. "This is madness, sheer madness." His Omni-Mech idled at the forefront of the Jaguar position, still facing the Highlanders in the distance—yet out of range of their weapons. He was enraged, but another part of him felt a stab of fear—fear of facing Khan Lincoln Osis and reporting what had happened.
Devon Osis opened a communications channel to the Nova Cat Star Colonel. "Your seers and oracles cannot help you now, Santin West.
"In the name of Khan Lincoln Osis of Clan Smoke Jaguar, I, Devon Osis, Commander of the Tau Galaxy, will defend this planet with everything I have—two and a half Clusters of the best warriors of Clan Smoke Jaguar—trueborn all. We are ready when you are, but first you had better make your odd little prayers and prepare for death."
Santin West laughed harshly. "I will crush you, here, now, with the fierceness that only my Clan can carry into battle. And you will know the price of anyone who dares anger the Nova Cat. You have called your own death down upon your head."
Osis did not answer immediately, puzzled by the Nova Cat's words. "It is you who brings this fight upon yourself. And I will defend the Tau Galaxy and this planet with everything I have, two reinforced Clusters of the best warriors Clan Smoke Jaguar has ever produced—trueborn all. A Cluster stands with me now while my remaining force sits waiting for you to die at our base seven hundred kilometers from here. If you have courage, face me now and put your boasts to the test."
"We have detected another unit near your position. Are they to be part of your defense bid?" asked Santin West.
"Neg, they are of no concern to you. Those are Inner Sphere mercenaries. When I am done with you, they will be mine to crush."
"Will they not interfere?"
"Forget them, Santin West. Their deaths are foregone. Come quickly. I promise the end will be quick."
"Do I assume you choose as the field of combat the site where your forces are now deployed?"
"Affirmative," Osis said with contempt in his voice, thinking that a Star Colonel like West would command no more than a single Cluster, hardly a match for an entire Galaxy.
"Galaxy Commander Devon Osis of the Jaguars," returned the voice of Santin West over the speakers. "You boast and bid like a freebirth, hoping to taint me with your own dishonor. I fear you not and accept your bid."
"Well bargained and done," Devon Osis replied, already savoring the defeat of the Nova Cat Cluster.
"Neg," cut in West. "What you do not know is that I have been given temporary command over an additional Cluster. If you think you outnumber me, Devon Osis, you are wrong."
Santin West laughed that same harsh laugh again. "Poorly bargained and done."
* * *
"When do we attack, sir?" Mitchell Fraser whispered to Loren over the lower band commline from his 'Mech.
"I'm not sure yet, but we'll know when the time is right. If the Colonel does her job, she'll play the two sides off against each other and then we can mop up the survivors."
"I didn't ask this before," Mitch said, "but just how are our own troops going to tell us apart from the real Smoke Jaguars? We look just like them to their sensors."
"They won't," Loren replied. "That's the part that requires us to be very careful, Mitch."
The Nova Cat DropShips had deployed a kilometer west of the battle site and moved their 'Mechs forward like a legion of Romans until they were at point-blank range with the Smoke Jaguars. It began like a summer thunderstorm on Northwind, light years and a full season away. It was impossible to tell who fired first, but it didn't seem to matter. Both sides immediately opened up a wave of fire—autocannons, lasers, PPCs, Gauss rifles, and missiles. It was a stunning sweep of light, stark against the darkness falling over the terrain as the battle began. Loren and the others dropped back slightly in the ranks. Their time would come.
* * *
"Holy crudstunk!" Jake Fuller cursed out loud as he watched the holocaust-like confrontation as it unfolded several kilomet
ers away across the bleak dusty ground of the open terrain. The blue arcing discharge of PPCs and the red and green flash of laser lights created an eerie aura around the battle, a glow of death and destruction. From his position nearly fifty meters back from the forest's edge, the display of sheer firepower was as awesome as it was brilliant.
Colonel Stirling came on line quickly. "Major Fuller, check your long-range tactical display. I want you and Captain Lovat to keep track of which side is winning and when. Our job is to keep the odds even for as long as possible, until they've clubbed each other back into the ice age. We'll play them against each other. When one side gets the upper hand, we'll pepper them from long range—wear them down just until the other side can rally."
"Yes, sir," Fuller said quickly.
"Major Mulvaney, are you picking up what I'm seeing here?" Stirling asked.
"It looks like the Nova Cats are punching through the Jaguar line and sweeping past with their flanks and butts to us."
"That's what I see too," Fuller said. "Cat One, this is Guard One, the Nova Cats are getting the upper hand."
"Then it's time to move," she said. Signaling the combined force of Northwind Highlanders, she charged forward, bringing both of the fighting Clans into the reach of their weapons. "Concentrate your firepower on the Nova Cats until you hear otherwise." Long-range missiles, PPCs, and Gauss rifles raked away, slamming into the flank of the Nova Cat's 179th Cluster, popping off armor and forcing the Cats to recoil.
* * *
"Major!" came a panicked call from Mitch Fraser in his Dasher, skirting the edge of the battlefield with a Nova Cat Ice Ferret attempting in vain to fire its way through the last shreds of his rear armor. The roar of the battle was weaker in the thin atmosphere, but the light show from the firefight was stunning. The Nova Cat forces had poured into the middle of the Smoke Jaguar position where Loren and his small contingent were concealed. The attackers had flowed around the other Jaguar 'Mechs, placing Mitch and the others in peril.
Impetus of War Page 29
