Dropship Nile, Drop Zone Alpha,

Einstein, Deep Periphery,

2^nd March 3068

 

“How did you get ambushed? I thought the Stealth was equipped with a Beagle Probe, that should have picked up the mechs in the forest.” Deserk asked.

Frank glanced up for a moment. “I found out later the Stealth was already damaged in an earlier fight. Presumably, the probe must have gotten destroyed. It was a damn shame. Greene seemed like a fine man. He was willing to sacrifice his own life to allow us a chance to get away.” Frank sighed at the memory.

An eager Kily asked, “So what happened next?”

 

Hitteu Forest,

Sirdar, Sirdar PDZ,

Capellan March, Federated Suns,

27^th May 3063

 

Frank had no idea where he was, or where he was heading. It had started raining a short while after he had managed to escape the ambush, and had now turned into a full-fledged storm. Visibility outside his Dart was extremely poor, and he had to slow down to avoid falling over unseen obstacles.

In the dense forest, maneuvering was even more difficult, and he had collided with several trees already when he failed to notice them when travelling at high speed. He had ended up rattled every time, along with a headache when his head collided with the screen. Thankfully, the neurohelmet had lessened the impact, leaving him still in command of his faculties. He had wanted to slow down to walking speed, but the red blips still appearing sporadically on his radar screen gave him little choice, indicating the enemy mechs were still pursuing him. And so Frank had little choice but to push his mech as fast as he dared in the tight confines of the forest, trying to keep one step ahead of his enemies.

The storm had given Frank some advantage, though, even if he did not know it at the time. The severe weather conditions had forced all aircraft and VTOLs back to their bases, as well as restricting most vehicles to their present posts due to the ground which was quickly turning to mud, leaving only mechs to operate in these conditions. The pursuing mechs were unable to match the Dart’s speed, however, so Frank was still able to maintain a safe distance from them.

In the direction of Frank’s desperate flight roughly a forty kilometers on was the town of Xinghua. Once populated by chinese refugees from the Capellan Confederation, the town’s inhabitants had all been relocated to prisoner camps for harboring pro-Victor sentiments. The loyalist units then took over the town, and turned it into their main supply base. They also constructed an airfield near the town for faster response on the battlefield by their aerowings. The town would have been a primary target of the fighters of the Davion Guard and Illician Lancers, if not for the strong anti-air defenses the Donegal Guards had erected to protect the supplies. The presence of a heavy mech lance and a company of infantry as security also served to discourage attack. Any attackers that managed to slip behind the main battle lines would normally be too light or damaged to deal with the base defenders. In theory, the VTOLs would also be deployed to harass and bring down any attackers approaching the base. That is, in theory.

The heavy storm reduced visibility, however, and the strong winds made any operation of VTOLs in the air a suicidal proposition. While infantry were able to move about on the pavement roads of the town, even the mechs were having some difficulty keeping their balance on the slick surface. In a rare, but understandable oversight, the officers of the Chisholm Raiders and Donegal Guards did not consider the sole Dart that had slipped behind their lines to be of any threat to the supply base. They believed that their mechs in pursuit would be able to bring it down soon, and that the heavy mech lance at the supply base would be more than enough to eliminate the Dart if it somehow reached the supply base. They had more important things to worry about.

They should have taken the weather into account.

Frank’s haphazard path was not helping matters any for the two pursuing lances either. One moment he would be heading towards the main battlefield, and the next he would be heading back to his own lines, before changing his course yet again. The lack of VTOL support in this case was especially telling, as they would have been able to locate the Dart easily and pinpoint its location for destruction by the heavy mechs. There was no VTOL support forthcoming in the stormy weather, however, so the Hussar mechs were left guessing at the Dart’s true intentions.

Frank was simply moving his Dart away from his pursuers. The changes in course were caused when he changed his heading whenever he had to avoid a tree. By this point, he was getting used to the feel of the mech and was able to keep his balance travelling over the slippery mud in the forest. He still had no idea of his next move, however.

After an hour of travelling through the forest, Frank could feel the trees of the forest thinning gradually. The storm was still going strong, and he could barely see twenty meters out from his cockpit due to the heavy rain. He wondered if he had managed to make his way back to the farmlands the decoy lance had traveled over when they had left the mech depot. I guess I had better push on to find out. I don’t want those mechs coming after me.

Frank was surprised, however, to see a faint outline of a town appearing as he left the confines of the forest. I don’t remember passing by a town in the farmlands. Looking around his surroundings as he approached the town, he was shocked to see himself moving over what seemed to be a runway track. He quickly pushed the Dart on, getting close to one of the buildings at the end of the runway. Seeing the insignia of the 4^th Donegal Guards, Frank finally figured out his present location.

I must have stumbled over one of their bases. Where are the defenders, though?

Just as the thought occurred to him, a red blip had appeared on the radar directly ahead of him. It was clearly one of the base defenders, out on patrol. With mechs still behind him, and now one right in front of him, and also closing fast, there seemed to be no way out. Frank quickly got his fear under control, and had the Dart up to walking speed, as he tried to find something to shoot at before the red blip got close enough to fire at him. He certainly was not going to go down without firing at some worthwhile target first! Moving the Dart around the immediate area, he was gratified to find what seemed to be fuel tanks about thirty meters away from him. Moving closer to confirm his suspicions, he could just barely make out the large words painted on the objects, “AEROSPACE FUEL”.

Seeing the red blip on his radar screen approaching his position quickly, Frank quickly moved back about thirty meters, keeping his targeting reticule centered over the middle of the gradually fading outlines of the tanks. Whispering a quick prayer to God, he fired all his medium lasers at the fuel tanks. God, don’t let me miss.

Frank was not a trained shot in a mech, yet at this distance, nobody could have missed such a large target. The laser lances punctured the light skin of the fuel tanks, and ignited the fuel contained within, causing a massive explosion.

The shockwave of the explosions pummeled the light Dart, damaging its front armour, but Frank just barely managed to keep the mech upright. He knew that if he had fallen, he would be unable to get the mech up from a prone position. Glancing at his damage screen, he was shocked to see that the most of the armour on the front of the Dart were gone. The explosion must have been more powerful than I thought. Maybe I should have stood a little further away before I fired my lasers._­­­­­­_­­­­­­­­­­­ Well, that’s one thing to remember when I get to do this again. If I ever get to do this again.

He started the Dart moving towards the lone mech heading towards him from deeper within the town, figuring that he might stand a better chance facing one mech instead of the lance of mechs pursuing him.

He changed his mind after just 400 meters in the direction of the enemy mech. It was an assault-class Stalker, 85 tons of sheer firepower, along with the armour to keep it in a fight long enough to destroy opponents with its numerous weapons. There was no way in the world that his 25 ton mech would be able to defeat the Stalker, which was three times his mech’s weight and carried more than the Dart’s weight in weaponry alone.

Knowing that the Dart’s speed was his only advantage over the Stalker, Frank decided to make a dash past the Stalker. With a great deal of luck, and with the aid of the weather, he might just be able to make an end run past the Stalker before it pounds the Dart into scrap.

Pointing the Dart at an angle of 30 degrees from the direction of the oncoming Stalker, he got the Dart up to its maximum speed of 140 kph. He had never been so scared in his life, not even when the decoy lance got ambushed in the forest.

He suddenly thought of Clarice, his good friend and classmate. She’s probably still studying in the NAIS, doing her internship. I wonder how is she coping? Had the civil war erupted on New Avalon as well? Is she thinking of me now? And why am I thinking of her at this time, of all times? Damn it, keep your thoughts focused!

Shaking his head to get rid of his stray thoughts, Frank tried to refocus his attention on the Stalker, which the Dart was rapidly approaching. Due to the heavy rain and poor visibility, he could only depend on the Dart’s sensors to inform him of the Stalker’s location. Presumably, he thought the same went for the Stalker pilot, so targeting would be a problem.

What Frank had not learnt about mech targeting systems was that there was also a infrared radiation mode, which would pick up on mechs easily, as mechs radiate a lot of heat, even when not actively moving or firing their weapons. The Stalker pilot, having no such gap in his knowledge of mech systems, had already switched his sensors and targeting systems over to infrared mode, and was not having any difficulty in detecting Frank’s Dart. The Dart’s speed was a big problem, however, and leading the shot was also not easy with the mech approaching at an angle. The Stalker had now halted its movement, and was concentrating on its attack on the Dart.

When the Dart passed within 40 meters of the Stalker, the assault mech fired its entire arsenal. Luckily for Frank, the missiles, both long-range and short-range, all missed, as the strong winds affected the flight paths of the missiles, making them miss his Dart. The energy weapons of the Stalker were another matter, though, and several of them hit his mech.

The large laser tore into the Dart’s left leg, removing all the armour. Not all the energy was expended, and much of it went on to melt away the internal structure of the leg. A foot actuator was destroyed, much to Frank’s consternation. Two of the medium lasers hit various parts of the torso, stripping away the remaining few armour shreds and nibbled at the innards of the mech, but failing to damage any critical components.

Frank refused to look at the damage screen, knowing that the damage was bad and that the Dart cannot possibly withstand another salvo. The Dart was hobbling badly now, with its foot actuator destroyed. He had gotten past the Stalker, however, and now he headed into the town, with the Stalker in hot pursuit, but hampered by its own heat levels after firing its entire arsenal.

The Dart suddenly rocked with the impact of multiple missiles. Frank was surprised, as he had not detected any mechs. It was only a few scant seconds before he saw the small shapes in front of his mech and realized what, or more accurately, who had launched the missiles.

It was infantry, now directly in the path of his mech. With the Dart still moving at better than a hundred kilometers per hour, there was no time for the infantry to get out of the mech’s path, after firing their SRMs, and no time for Frank to halt the Dart.

The Dart plowed through the ranks of the infantry, crushing bodies and flinging soldiers up into the air as they were kicked by the mech’s legs. Frank could feel the impact of the bodies of the infantrymen with the Dart as faint jerks in the mech. He could hear the terrible screams of the soldiers when they died, and see the bloodstains thrown up on his windshield slowly washed away by the incessant rain as he left the infantry behind him.

He felt like throwing up. Oh my God, I’ve become a killer. All those soldiers, dead by my hand. I am a doctor. I was supposed to save lives, not take them. I’ve not wanted to kill anyone, just give the troops time to hold the line and evacuate the hospital if necessary. Damn this war!

He brought the Dart gradually to a stop, as he came up against a cul-de-sac in the street he was on. Turning his mech around to an intersection, he was stunned to see a massive pile of crates and various gantries with vehicles parked near the crates.

A warning tone informed him that the Dart had just entered the weapons range of the approaching Stalker. Frank turned the mech towards the crates, hoping to seek some cover amongst the several story high piles instead of the low-rise buildings of the town.

The Stalker had halted again, trying to get off a good shot to put the Dart down for good. Frank knew that if he failed to reach the crates in time, he will probably be dead. With the Dart running for all it was worth, Frank was sweating heavily from the events of the last few minutes.

The Dart would have made it too, if not for a supply vehicle parked in its way. Frank noticed the vehicle when it was only twenty meters away, and tried desperately to change the Dart’s direction.

As any mech jock knew, piloting a mech on pavement was harder than driving a vehicle on the same surface. Mechs were extremely prone to skidding on pavement as they change direction, and it became harder to maintain the mech’s balance as its speed increased. The momentum of the mech would frequently keep the mech moving in its original direction even as it changed its facing. Elite pilots were able to take advantage of this in city-fighting as they could fire while moving in another direction. For poorer pilots, however, they could only fall down.

Frank was a poor pilot.

The Dart refused to obey the instructions coming from the cockpit, even though its facing had changed. The task was not helped by the slippery ground, and the spoiled foot actuator. Continuing on its path, it was all Frank could do to keep the mech upright. It was an effort doomed to failure, when the Dart tumbled over the supply vehicle. As the Dart flipped head over heels over the vehicle, Frank was driven into unconsciousness as his head slammed into his controls. He did not see the inadvertent results of his unexpected fall.

The Stalker had chosen the exact same moment to fire its weapons. But the Dart’s fall had taken it off the targeting sights as the pilot depressed the triggers, leaving the weapons with no target and no destination except what was directly in front of them.

The crates containing supplies and ammunition for the loyalist forces.

 

Aboard the dropship Nile, Frank shook his head woefully. “I only found out about that when some infantry from the Davion Guards dug me out from what was left of my first battlemech. It turns out the destruction of the supplies and fuel for the aerofighters in the town completely changed the campaign. The allied troops were able to hold out long enough for the 1^st Fed Suns Armored Cav, the Davion Light Guards, and the 9^th Illician. They went on the attack almost immediately, and the loyalists were pushed offworld soon after.”

“I spent the next four months at a hospital in Selkirk on Sirdar recovering from broken ribs and a fractured leg. Before I left to rejoin the Guards, who were fighting elsewhere then, I was given a load of money by the planetary governor, in appreciation of my efforts.”

Frank laughed, “Actually, he was grateful because if the Katrina supporters had won, they would have discovered that he had been embezzling funds to finance his own schemes. The money he gave me was peanuts compared to what he had taken from the government, and he was later pardoned when the Prince won on New Avalon.”

“I spent the rest of the civil war with the 2^nd Davion Guards as they fought their way to New Avalon. It was a bloody road to New Avalon, and the last campaign on New Avalon itself was the worst of them all. As you know, we won, but it was a bloodbath.”

“I did manage to get some simulation time, however, and when the war ended General Mitchell offered me a place at one of the military academies on New Avalon. I couldn’t get the deaths of the men I killed out of my mind, however, and I had no wish to fight, not after my first taste of war. I had enough.

Frank said ruefully, “I had lined up a job at a pharmaceutical company researching and designing drugs, after I had reimbursed the government with some of the money I had.”

“My plans went awry, when my girlfriend’s father refused to let us meet until I had made my mark in the world. So I abandoned the research job, traveled to Outreach, and spent the last of my money on a battlemech training course. It is easier after all, to gain fame and fortune in war. I had no other choice. Eleven months later, here I am.”