by Fanpro
39
As taught by the philosophy of taoism, in all things is their opposite. The defeat of the DEST forces in open combat was the gateway to riches and control for the mercenaries commanded by Vost. Yet from the defeat came resurrection, and from victory came fragmentation.
In the soft falling of night, Takuda sat dejected in his command post. He realized that he'd committed his 'Mechs to a hopeless battle, and for that they were paying the penalty. That Jacobs' Locust had not been destroyed was a stroke of luck, but luck was a fickle goddess, and the next time she might not smile upon his efforts. Hope and time for his people were slipping away like sands in an hourglass. For the second time since they'd landed on this planet, Takuda considered seppuku.
The curtain of the command post was pulled aside and Parker Davud entered. "I've got some good news and some bad news, Commander." Davud pulled a chair back from the table and settled into it. 'The good news is that we've just picked up some recruits from the enclaves. The bad news is that only some of them are armed."
Takuda looked at his aide. Surely this man had drifted from reality to fantasy. Recruits? There couldn't be recruits after the fiasco of the morning. But it turned out that Parker Davud was right on both counts. A steady stream of people was making its way from the enclaves to the DEST location. They came for many reasons, but all wanted to offer their services. There was also a smattering of soldiers from each of the enclaves, equipped with whatever weapons they'd been able to carry. By the time the huge, mottled, gibbous moon broke the rim of the eastern horizon, Takuda had almost a full platoon. The force was a mix of people from all three enclaves, more than half of them women and children. Their weapons ranged from swords and muskets to light pistols and nonstandard bolt action rifles. Neither was there any standardization of ammunition, but it was a start.
The people came, they said, because they believed the new humans on the outside offered a better future than did their life within the enclaves. Some were drawn to Takuda's philosophy of a better world; others were seeking dominance. A few were looking to even a score with those they had left behind. In all cases Takuda welcomed them into his ranks and began the task of organization.
* * *
In the enclaves, there was a feeling of euphoria among the leadership. The demonstration of 'Mech firepower had led each faction to decide that their future lay with Vost. They knew that by hiring the services of the mercenaries, they could achieve whatever goals they held in their deepest dreams. They knew that whoever employed those services would be the one who controlled the destiny of the enclaves. To assure that future, they poured out their promises to Vost and the others.
But the leaders of the enclaves were not the only ones impressed by the demonstration. The entrepreneurs represented by Achira Kochira and his associates found themselves part of a crowded field all clamoring for the services of the mercenaries. So fragmented were the groups and their offers that the aspirants found it easier to deal with the individual pilots in private than as a single entity. Vost, Seagroves, and Pesht were regularly besieged by enthusiastic buyers. It was a seller's market.
Each of the pilots reacted to the offers in his own way. Vost was most easily approached by those with soft, sinuous bodies, luminescent eyes, and fulsome lips. Never in his life had such opportunities come his way. The women of the mercenary team, Wilson, Sabine, and Guardine as well as Hoond, were no longer the focus of his attention. Now that he had no time for the mundane or familiar, they were left to sit alone in their simple rooms or splendid quarters while he enjoyed the charms of enclave society.
As for Seagroves, he became so saturated with gold that his room was like a shrine to Midas. Gold, in all its shapes and forms, continued to pile up around him. Though the planet's artisans were accustomed to working in metals such as iron, copper, and silver, they had been hastily recruited to create objects of splendor in the baser metal.
Then there was Pesht, who almost had to pinch himself to be sure all the marvelous offers were more than just a dream. No longer was he getting offers merely to become AN important person; now the offers were for him to become THE important person in any coalition or single group. One offer piled on top of another until it was almost impossible to tell the difference. The last was always the best, but there was no reason to take it because the next one would be better.
The leaders of the enclaves soon became aware that they were being outbid by the individual groups. They also understood the two factors that was making the market crazy: the existence of the separate enclaves and the presence of the DEST force still lingering in the forest beyond. They decided to solve both their problems in one fell swoop. For the first time in almost four hundred years, the three declared a truce among themselves— achieving, ironically, Takuda's single, most important objective. He had inadvertently welded the enclaves together in a common purpose. Unfortunately, the purpose for which they come together in truce was his destruction. The leaders of the enclaves decided that by eliminating the forest force they could reduce the need to hire the mercenaries. With Takuda gone, the enclaves might be able to get rid of the mercenaries in the same way they'd eliminated weapons of mass destruction so many centuries before. Takuda was first on their agenda.
The organization was patchwork at best, but by dawn they had hammered out an agreement that would set the forces of all three enclaves against the human intruders and their Tetatae friends now hidden in the forest. The enclaves would redeem their honor and resolve a problem at the same time.
The plan called for their combined forces to make a concerted attack against the forest group. Each enclave leader would contribute his entire mobile group, supported by infantry and weapons, to the attack. Secretly, however, each one was also planning to hold back a portion, just in case things did not go as planned. With much hand-shaking, back-slapping, and feigned good will, the leaders departed for their respective cities to make more plans.
At dawn the forces rumbled out from the gates of the enclaves. The mercenary pilots were too exhausted to take any notice, and only the technicians, still on lonely guard at the 'Mech bastion, saw them go. None made any attempt to notify their commander.
The three columns, a confused assortment of underpowered vehicles and clinging infantry, joined up in the open fields between Amatukaze and Usugumo. There was a momentary delay and fear of treachery when the Osio were late, but then everyone realized they had farther to travel and had suffered a delay in getting started because of a communications breakdown. Unwilling to lose face at such a critical time, the commander of the Osio column pushed his people hard to make up for the error. Because of the delay, the Osio commander demanded the right to redeem his honor by leading the attack with his forces. The commanders of the Usugumo and Amatukaze finally agreed. The attack went in, a little late, a little ragged, but in.
Takuda's people had seen the amalgamation of the forces coming. At first they thought it must be some climactic battle among the enclaves, but when they saw the troops coming together peacefully, they began to worry. The recruits who had joined during the night had no idea what was happening because they'd fled the enclaves before the decision to combine forces had been made. They were just as surprised as Takuda and his men by the assemblage. Any doubts about what was happening evaporated when the Osio rentai turned to face the forest and then came on.
The combat group was led by the lighter vehicles. These were small, wheeled affairs with exposed engines and troops on their rear decks frantically working the pumps that forced fuel to the engines. Clouds of thick, dark exhaust rose from the tall stacks, belching forth more and more violently until tongues of fire could be seen from the crowns. The roar of the motors was deafening. As the scout cars came forward, their great wheels churned up the soft dirt. In the front of each one rode the commander in a perch high above the prow; a tall, wooden latticework tower was his post. He used a long prod to direct the driver, hammering on the unfortunate's shoulder whenever he wished to make a tu
rn.
Behind them came the heavier forces, enclosed vehicles that were covered with riding troops. These were armored forces and their infantry support. Great clods of dirt spewed from under their thrashing, spiked wheels. The infantry hung on, inspired by the terror of being thrown under one of the behemoths. It was all very grand.
Trotting behind the vehicles came the regular infantry formations carrying their assortment of muskets. Archaic though the weapons might be, they were equally deadly. Takuda had the advantage of firepower, but he lacked numbers. No matter where he deployed his thin forces, there would always be enough attackers to work around his flanks. To defeat this alliance would call for more than just bullets. The short-range missile launcher fired first, its arcing vapor trail streaking toward one of the second-line attack vehicles. The missile passed through the laminated wooden armor plate of the prow and exploded against the engine block on the inside. The vehicle staggered momentarily and then burst apart in a cloud of fire, steam, pulleys, belts, gears, and people.
The Osio rentai did not hesitate. A long, high-pitched scream rose up from the ranks of the jogging troops as they broke into a full run. Off to the right Takuda heard the staccato stutter of a DEST light machine pistol, followed almost at once by the steady thump of the weapon section's machine gun. Some of the volunteer recruits were getting into the action. He couldn't hear it, but he was sure that the DEST laser rifles were working their way through the horde of rushing enemy. Then he saw that someone must have targeted a scout vehicle with a laser. First, the exterior of the engine produced a bright red spot, and then the whole cylinder—piston, smokestack, and manifold—rose from the chassis like a rocket. It flared off into the smoke-shrouded sky with an infernal howl before crashing some distance away behind the supporting troops.
Commlink chatter. Unidentified but urgent.
"Too many. Have to pull back."
"Recruits breaking on my left."
"Bustoe hit. I'm withdrawing."
"Give me fire to the left. I have to pull back. Too many of them."
"Damn! They're like ants. Can't crush them fast enough."
"Watch out for that next vehicle. Looks like a slug gun in the front."
Takuda considered ordering the Locust up in support, but he didn't know where the LAM was. If he committed the 'Mech too early, the LAM could be on the scene in a few minutes and destroy it. Until he discovered the mercenaries' location, he could not commit the 'Mech.
Then a great crash drew Takuda's attention. It was one of the second-line vehicles erupting in a cloud of smoke and coolant steam, probably from another missile hit. They were going to have to be careful; those missiles would soon become more valuable than life. Then the vehicle emerged from the smoke, and Takuda realized that it had fired at his troops. A sudden trembling in the ground under his feet startled him. Looking off to the right he saw a boulder the size of a large trash can bounding away into the forest. The vehicle was firing ball ammunition. Archaic but deadly. You'd be just as dead if that fell on you as if from a hit by a laser, he thought.
The Tetatae allies were fighting with spears and wicked, short kogatana that were sharp enough to slice through an unarmored man. In fighting them, the Osio forces seemed to redouble their ferocity as though they wanted to exterminate the aliens rather than defeat them.
"Machine gun's gone. Had to pull back. Low on ammo."
"My right. My right. Someone support my right. I can't hold them."
"Pull back. Pull back. I can't get there. Pull back."
"The tetties are taking it in the shorts. They're getting slaughtered."
Takuda followed the course of the battle over the commlink. His lines were collapsing all across the front. From what he could hear, the DEST members were doing all right, but the recruits and Tetatae were bearing the brunt of the casualties. The short-range missile launcher was loading and firing as fast as Sanae and Miranda could slap rounds into the launch tray. Its I/R guidance system had no trouble locking onto the overheated tanks, but sooner or later the SRM would run out of ammunition. At Takuda's signal, his troops began to give ground.
40
The light sections of Takuda's force covered the retreat, though it wasn't much to cover; the front line of recruits and Tetatae had broken under the weight of the assault. Those who'd had the presence of mind to think of the future had taken their weapons with them. Those recruits who'd been overcome by fear had abandoned their equipment in flight. Knyte and Arsenault kept their teams spread out and under control. They retreated in short jumps, returning fire as the confident forces of the enclaves came up against them. In the woods the lasers were at a distinct advantage over the simpler slug-throwers because they were the perfect ambush weapon. The rifle emitted only a sibilant hum when it fired and did not betray the operator with a muzzle flash or cloud of explosive gas. In many cases a DEST member was able to get off several, killing shots before being discovered.
By mid-afternoon they'd broken off all contact with the attacking forces except for the single vedettes that Takuda had left in touch. The ranks of the attackers had become so badly mixed up that they were equally willing to let the battle subside while they reorganized. In the excitement of victory they did not stop to count the cost or mourn the dead. They were on a roll and wanted to finish the job. There would be time enough later to deal with the lost and injured. Now was the time for celebration and victory. Someone broke out a bottle of budoshu and the party began, but the revelry was confined mostly to the support troops. The men in contact with the sentries understood just how deadly the forest could be.
To the rear of the scattered front, the heavy equipment began to gather. There were great gaps in the formations, and some units had simply ceased to exist. Not just as effective combat forces, but as entire units. Some had no survivors.
The leaders reorganized the mobile units as fast as they could. They knew that the battle was not over. They also knew that they were winning. Based on the enemy dead they'd discovered, based on the exotic weapons they'd encountered, there could not be many more of Takuda's troops in the woods. The bulk of the forest force had been broken. Victory was just a grasp away. They felt a driving need to finish the job before dark.
Takuda also spent the lull in reorganization. In addition to the casualties suffered by the recruits and the Tetatae, there were casualties among all the DEST teams. Bustoe had taken a soft lead slug through the chest. The slug had so wandered its way through the chest cavity that the only way to get it out was to cut through his back, where the object betrayed its presence by a great bulge below the man's rib cage. Bustoe would live, but he certainly wouldn't be in any shape for combat for some time. Takuda might have to use him as a last resort, but he wouldn't want to commit the gun-so to a mobile action.
Andi Holland had been struck by a flying object of some kind that had laid open her back to the shoulder blade. The wound was bad, but they could bind and support it enough to keep her on the line. It would mean she'd be firing weapons with only one hand for a while— and her off hand at that—but she could still move, shoot, and communicate. Johan Miranda had gotten burned when one of the short-range missiles, loaded before the launcher was fully cooled, had prematurely fired in the launch tube. He was out of action for good, his face and hands burned beyond immediate hope of repair. And even if they could find a way to relieve his pain, the expert shooter would never draw bead on another target: he was blind.
Takuda called the leaders of his disparate force together at his temporary command post. Davud was there to represent the DEST team, Dakodo spoke for the Tetatae, and Robert Fullerton, a recent arrival from Osio, spoke for the recruits. As the meeting progressed, they were joined by Holly Goodall.
Takuda glanced around the assemblage. There was no need to tell them that they were losing ground and the battle. So far, the DEST members had managed to survive the worst of the damage, but that would not last forever. Fullerton reported that of the forty-five recruits who had ga
thered in the forest the night before, only nine were unhurt. A dozen of the others were wounded, some seriously, and the other fourteen were gone—either dead, captured, or deserted. In any case, they were no longer part of the force. Fullerton estimated that he could put twelve people on the line, but his weapons were short of ammunition and his people were short on hope. They would stay, but they weren't enthusiastic about the future.
Dakodo reported much the same. More than two hundred Tetatae males had volunteered to fight with Takuda, representing slightly less than half the adult males in the assorted tribes who had gathered around the DEST group during the past week. Of that number, fewer than a fourth were in any shape to continue. Takuda estimated that he could put a force of perhaps fifty Tetatae into the next defense, a far cry from the two hundred at the start of the battle. There might be more, but that was a faint hope.
The last report came from Goodall. Both Locusts were operational, but Jacobs 'Mech was less than half effective. Not only had the frontal armor been virtually destroyed, but the main gyrostabilizer servos had been burned out beyond all recognition. She had traded 'Mechs with Jacobs on the assumption that a good pilot in a bad 'Mech and an inexperienced pilot in a good 'Mech was a better option than Jacobs in the damaged Locust. Goodall would be able to fight the damaged machine, while Jacobs certainly would not. It took at least ten years to train a good 'Mech pilot, and although Jacobs showed great natural ability, he was nowhere near qualified enough. His past training was no substitute for experience. He could pilot the 'Mech and fight it, after a fashion, but it was almost impossible for him to do both.
Thus the reports to Takuda. The universal recommendation was to break contact and make the best retreat possible. By nightfall they should be able to cover enough ground to leave behind the forces allied against them. They would be faster than their pursuers because they could traverse the woods without having to deal with an enemy to their front. Never knowing where the DEST force might be hiding, the enclave regiments would have to be more cautious. Takuda still had his I/R technology available, which let him detect any enemy movement long before the danger of making contact. Despite all that, both his flanks had been turned by the assault, and the center was in danger of being breached. There was nothing to do but break contact and retreat into the deep woods.
