Orbital Cannon Site A,
Einstein, Deep Periphery
16th March 3068
Frank checked his radar screen nervously as his combined forces battalion, designated Battlegroup A, took up defensive positions around the orbital cannon.
The Raiders were short one lance due to Bryan’s lance having been assigned to message duty. Descartin Winters and his small unit had taken up the slack, giving them a force of eleven mechs to work with.
Also present were the Death Dancers, a mixed Partisan, Patton, and Vedette tank company. Having lost a few units during the rescue of the Falcons, the company had been restored back to full strength by the surviving Brutus tanks and SRM missile carriers off the Nile, and were now more accurately a reinforced tank company. The tankers covered one flank of the facility, while his mechs guarded the other.
Last but not least was an infantry company, the 5th Firemouths. While Frank didn’t think they would be very useful in the battle ahead, they served an important purpose in holding the weapon facility in case of Spidercrab drone attacks. Even better was the fact that one platoon was anti-mech trained, though Frank privately hoped that their skills would not come into use. They held positions in and around the facility itself.
The cannon took the shape of a massive nondescript artillery barrel 15 meters wide and 40 meters long, sticking out into the sky and supported by several huge pylons. Below it was a building that housed a quantum reactor, which would provide the energy required to power the phaser weapon, as well as the machinery for producing the phaser beam itself.
Not only that, but the facility also possessed a directional shield that protected the cannon itself from orbital strikes. However, the protection of the shield did not extend to ground level. Which made ground defense of paramount importance.
Not for the first time, Frank wondered at the intelligence of the alien creators when he found out that they could only start up the power source after the facility had deployed to the surface from its hole underground, and that it would take about ten minutes for them to spool up the engine and get the weapon ready to fire.
That’s so stupid! The whole point of orbital cannons are for them to be ready for firing once they deploy! Not to sit on the ground waiting for enemies to take them out! Frank remembered thinking that when he found out about the setup procedure. His opinion had not changed.
“Contact! Bearing two-forty, in a large group of at least ten mechs!” Yoshino called from his Nobori-Nin.
Frank was not going to let such a good opportunity to thin the enemy ranks pass him by. “Ten mechs aren’t going to get past us. Let’s get them!”
The entire company moved into line position, their extended range weapons already seeking targets eagerly.
Frank had swapped out the ultra heavy autocannon in the Night Gyr’s right arm for a gauss rifle, exchanging weapons with a Falcon warrior who wanted more short range punch for his Masakari. This gave him incredible long range punch when combined with his extended range large lasers.
Settling his sights over an advancing Smasher, he waited till he was absolutely sure of his shot before firing at the black mech, which was the SRM version. The large lasers boiled off armor all over the mech’s upper body before he followed up with his gauss rifle. The energy capacitors of the weapon went to work, flinging a nickel iron ball the size of a melon into the air. The weakened torso armor did little to stop the gauss slug from penetrating to the interior and setting off the volatile ammunition stored there.
The massive explosion of the Smasher’s death seemed to be the signal for the rest of the company to open up. ER PPCs and long range lasers dominated the field, as the human warriors made their range advantage count, hammering at the heavier enemy elements or those variants equipped with LRMs.
It did not take too long. It was a scant thirty seconds before Kety reported the last enemy mech destroyed, a lightweight Ant. Frank found himself strangely eager for more enemies to appear over the landscape, a taste for more combat on his tongue.
It was unsettling to him, to say the least.
He quickly checked his map feed, which was constantly updated with information from the main base’s sensors. He already knew that there were two enemy groups of at least a fifty mechs each relatively near their position, but they were both in pursuit of other human forces which were trying to flee into the underground tunnels.
That had changed now. Both enemy groups were en route to the orbital cannon, judging by their movements of the last minute. One would be arriving in just two minutes time, while the other had an ETA of thirty minutes.
Shouldn’t be a problem, Frank thought. Nine more minutes would have the orbital cannon up and shooting at the enemy warship up there. They had gunners from the dropship crews assigned to the naval weapons, on the basis that there was not anybody else truly qualified for such work.
The other battlegroups were also doing quite well. Their sudden appearance had instilled a certain amount of panic in the enemy forces, as they struggled to cope with the wide dispersal of many of their units, spread out over the lands in the course of their fruitless chase of the human soldiers.
Ian Dorlacen and Daniela Mattlov had been assigned to Battlegroup B, another of the ad hoc groups formed when Descartin Winters and him had argued for mixed forces instead of the ‘pure’ compositions that Lizabet Danforth favored. Having warriors from both sides fight alongside each other would allow a much more homogenous mix of technology and manpower, with the advantage from clan tech and clan expertise being spread out evenly among all the battlegroups.
They were doing all right so far, but the battle upstairs was taking a decided turn for the worst. Frank feared the surface to orbit cannon might be deployed too late.
He was shaken out of his thoughts by the insistent beeping of a small red light to his left, indicating an urgent transmission from the main base. Pressing a button to his console, Frank prepared himself for what he was sure would be bad news, about the only time anyone would bother to send urgent messages.
He was not disappointed.
It was Pascal Thome. “Raider Lead, this is Command! I’ve got bad news!”
“I sorta figured that one out already.” Frank replied sarcastically.
“No! Listen! This is really big trouble! Switch your sensor feed to check for atmospheric aerospace deployment on the planetary map.”
Frank did so, and was surprised to see a fast moving blot heading towards them. It stuck out like a sore thumb from the other slow moving blots on the map .“What the heck is that? That’s moving too fast for a saucer!”
He suddenly recalled a piece of data from the archives. “No wait, I remember now! That’s probably an enemy fast deployment craft, normally used as command ships for the rest of the saucers.”
“Right. And it’s going to be right on top of you in about 4 minutes. Ally thinks, and we agree, that the fact that it lacks guns and armor could only mean that it’s going to be dropping more mechs into your laps, because that’s all it’s good for.”
Frank came to a rather ominous conclusion. It’s also not going to drop them anywhere else because its warship is also hanging right above us! It forces us to deploy the orbital gun, but by doing so, we have also allowed it to dictate the place of battle!
“What’s the expected loadout?” Frank hoped Pascal or Ally would know what mechs the enemy craft was carrying.
“No idea. Just be careful.”
“Roger that. Keep an eye on the ship. When it gets near us, inform me ASAP.”
“Wilco. Command out.”
He switched to the tactical frequency, where he had plugged in his conversation with Pascal. “Everybody heard that?” A series of ayes answered him.
“Now let us concentrate on matters at hand! Mechs incoming!” Descartin yelled as the next group of ninety black mechs appeared on their scopes.
Frank did not take the time to settle into his shot, firing his gauss rifle and lasers simultaneously once the enemy machines came into range. He missed with the gauss, but managed to score with two laser shots on a Lemming, melting armor off the left arm and leg.
All around him, there was the dull roar of weapons fire as they flung everything they had at the enemy. PPCs, lasers, missiles and autocannons flashed out, as the first rank of the black mechs reeled from the destructive salvo. Even the tanks had entered the battle, taking up a good spot on the right flank of the enemy advance. They used their ranged weapons to good effect, and managed to draw off part of the enemy mech force, which Frank was extremely grateful for.
The Partisans and Vedettes engaged with their autocannons, the cluster rounds from the Partisans bursting among the black mechs, and the Vedettes chipping away with their ultra AC/5s. The Patton and Brutus tanks launched swarms of specialized Thunder LRMs into the ground to weaken the enemy advance, sowing a line of explosives and shrapnel along the path of attack.
It did little to halt the black mechs. An Ant sprayed its LRMs at him, the missiles blasting off a small fraction of the armor on the Night Gyr’s right arm. Frank ignored the hit, trying to identify and kill the heavier and more dangerous enemy mechs first.
There were too many mechs for them to keep at bay, and the black mechs, true to form, came on relentlessly, ignoring the damage they were taking as they closed in. The first ten black mechs went down, but there were more than enough left as they reached the limits of their own weapon ranges.
The fact that we are defending a mole on the plains means
that we can’t use run and gun tactics! Frank realized. We have to hold a
fixed defense line, and we can’t budge because they’re heading straight for the
orbital cannon!
Ally had already informed of the risks in using the cannons. Should the enemy manage to infiltrate their drones, namely the Spidercrabs, into the equipment, they would be able to override the commands from the base and even take over the base functions, most importantly the gate controls. And all would be lost if they ever managed to open the gates.
Both sides exchanged fire furiously, the black mechs making up for their lower accuracy with their greater volume. Napoleon, as usual, was as instructive as ever when he said that “quantity has a quality of its own”. Another one of his understatements.
And that same ‘quality’ was working against the humans, as they gave up ground grudgingly to avoid the murderous short range firepower of the black mechs, which seemed to have mainly SRM and laser equipped mech variants in their midst.
Frank triggered another salvo of laser fire as he walked the Night Gyr backwards, this time savaging armor on a Bruiser, which absorbed the laser energy easily and was moving forward ominously.
He could spot the numerous missile racks all over the mech, and he knew that it was likely to be either the LRM or the SRM boat version. He did not want to be on the receiving end of either missile system, but he knew there was not much choice as it launched a total of 60 LRMs at him.
He braced himself, gripping his joysticks tightly as the swarm of missiles crashed into the Night Gyr, blanking out even his HUD as they came in hard. The impact of more than thirty missiles threatened to unbalance the mech, and Frank had to flail the arms of his mech around for a while before he got it under control.
He snarled in anger, and about to reply with his gauss rifle when a volley of particles whipped into the center torso of the assault class Bruiser, killing the controlling algorithmic system in there and neutralizing the mech.
“Frank, you all right?” Deserk asked as his Black Hawk continued pummeling the enemy mechs with laser blasts from the his extended range lasers.
“Yeah. Gave me a good shaking, but I’ll live. We have to put more space between us and them!”
“No way. We are almost backing into the facility already.”
Frank checked his screens, and found that Deserk was right. The orbital cannon was only three hundred meters behind them, and only a kilometer and his battlegroup separated the cannon and the black mechs.
They had destroyed about more than twenty drone mechs so far, but they had taken quite a lot of damage as well. And the approaching drone ship meant that he wouldn’t have any reserves left if more enemy mechs appeared. CLG is going to be a killer, Frank thought.
His headset crackled again. “Raider Lead, this is Command. The enemy ship has reached your position and is deploying its units!”
The machine intelligence was elated at the success of its
plan.
The imminent destruction of one of the opposing warships
meant that the one remaining would have no chance of victory, while the
super-assault mechs it had deployed meant that it would soon have possession of
the Qlictorio base.
The defending flesh beings were fighting tenaciously, but
they were having a difficult time with the drones already present, and were in
no position to oppose the thirty mechs that were dropping right now from its
bays on the other side of the facility.
A group of flesh beings were situated in the orbital
cannon facility itself, but they were hardly a threat for the firepower of the
mechs, nor the Spidercrabs they carried.
Victory was at hand!
Descartin Winters narrowed his eyes as he heard Pascal’s report. His Nova Cat had already taken quite a lot of abuse, with his limb armor almost in tatters, and his torso not much better in protection. Some LRM fire had hit his cockpit, and blood was now streaming down one of his legs. It was not very painful, but Descartin knew that wounds tend to add up. This rule applied to both humans and mechs.
“Dancers, send the Vedettes over to slow those mechs down!” Frank was issuing orders, trying to wrest back the initiative lost. However, in Descartin’s mind, they had lost the initiative ever since the enemy had first boiled out of the seas to attack the unsuspecting humans.
The lance of tracked vehicles sped off to their rear, where the new enemy force was landing on the other side of the facility. Descartin kept a cautious eye on them as he continued pounding away at the enemy mechs in front of him.
Another Bruiser stride forward, the fearful crack of its twin rail guns audible as it fired at his Nova Cat. One slug hammered into his left leg, laying the internal structure bare to further attacks, while the other just missed his cockpit by inches.
His sure hand smoothly recovered the Nova Cat from the strike, and he repaid the damage with interest as he fired all his long range weapons into the middle of the Bruiser. The targeting computer was an invaluable tool as it gave him incredible firing solutions for his shots. Already considered one of the best gunners in clan space, Des’ unerring accuracy coupled with the targeting computer gave him the ability to place a shot almost anywhere he wanted on the enemy.
The Bruiser staggered as its gyro was hit, then collapsed as Kety followed up with his Gallowglas’ own PPC and large lasers, one of his shots entering the middle and finishing the job Des had started.
“Thanks for the help!” Descartin shouted gratefully, as Kety replied with a wave of his mech’s left hand.
A shriek of despair suddenly overrode all other concerns. “This is Dancer Vee-One, we are pulling back! I have never seen the likes of those. I’ve already lost two tanks at extreme range, and they.. Oh God… Help!” The transmission was cut off.
Des quickly switched to his rear view, and he saw a swarm of LRMs descend on the two retreating Vedettes. That was not shocking, but the fact that every single missile landed on target did. Streak missiles, but LRM versions, his mind informed him dispassionately.
Des felt a sudden coldness grip his body, all the way to his bones. He instantly knew he was going to die this day, and that the purpose of his whole life might been to bring him to this one battle, one in which he had no chance of living through, one in which the fate of humanity was at stake. It was something that every clansman dreamed of, a glorious fight against impossible odds, a chance at immortality in legend and song.
Still, he wondered if he had somehow accrued a lot of bad karma in a past life which was now responsible for his present predicament.
He turned his Nova Cat around, and started moving towards the approaching black mechs, all of which are showing up on his tremor sensors as being a hundred tons.
Thirty hundred ton mechs, all with advanced technology.
As he moved, he noticed Deserk in his Black Hawk beside him. Apparently, Deserk had the exact same idea as him. Des considered asking the Wolf Dragoon to turn back, but he knew that it was Deserk’s individual decision, and could only respect it as a fellow warrior.
Maybe he had already foreseen this scene in his visions.
“It is a good day to die, quiaff?” Des asked his sibmate.
“Aff.” The reply came. “Truly a good day.”
Frank tried to ignore the fear bubbling up from his guts to his heart, as well as the vomit that he could feel was on the way to his mouth in his esophagus.
Pascal was giving him some very bad news. “The specs say that each of these mechs pack two advanced particle cannons, a big fucking autocannon that we have no equivalent for, and something like streak LRMs!”
“In other words?” Frank asked.
“You guys are dead meat! Pull back now, we can try again later!”
“There is no later!” Frank yelled, “The Falcons are dying in droves up there, and we are too heavily engaged to retreat! Damn it! Send me all the reserves ASAP!”
“Gotcha! They’re already on the way, one company of mixed troops. ETA is ten minutes!”
We’ll be lucky if we can hold out for another two! Frank cursed as he sent a gauss slug at an Ant, shattering its torso armor and dumping the drone on the ground.
Then he saw Deserk and Descartin Winters moving to their rear in their mechs
“Hey, what are you doing?” Frank didn’t want to think that the two had lost their nerve and were abandoning their comrades. He did not realize the alternative.
“Take out the black mechs in front of you first. We’ll try to delay the new force behind you for as long as possible.” Deserk answered.
Huh, only two of them against thirty?
“But there’s only two of you!” Frank wailed.
“Don’t argue with us! Just do as he says!” Des yelled back.
“You won’t last long!” Kety entered the running argument as the battle raged around them.
Frank saw Deserk’s Black Hawk continuing to charge forward at the newcomers as the Dragoon replied. “We don’t have to! Just long enough for the cannon to work! And Kety…”
“Yeah?”
“When you get back to Outreach, tell Reena… Tell Reena I’m sorry.” There was pain and regret in Deserk’s voice.
That meant only one thing to everybody listening.
Deserk had no intention of surviving this fight. Frank figured the same went for Descartin Winters.
He decided to try one last time. “Don’t do this! There’s always another way!”
Winters answered this time. “There is no other way, no other choice. You know how this is going to turn out. Now concentrate on your own battle!”
Another salvo of enemy fire brought Frank’s attention back to the fight before him as a Lemming fired its medium autocannon at him, the shells tearing into his mech. He sent three laser beams at the drone, one of them hitting it squarely in the chest while the other two missed miserably. Large goblets of armor ran down the drone’s chest as it moved forward.
Frank chanced a quick look back at their rear, where the brilliant flashes of light indicated a fight in full swing. He hoped that they would be able to hold off the enemy force, but common sense and logic dictated that it was doomed to failure.
Frank turned his attention to the front in time to dodge another salvo of autocannon fire from the Lemming by jumping his mech into the air. Rising up on jets of fusion flame, Frank plugged away with his pulse lasers, this time connecting with both shots to the right torso of the mech. The Lemming seemed to ignore him, and moved closer to the facility.
As he landed, he realized that the black mechs were beginning to penetrate their lines, and the battle was fast becoming a melee, with the humans pitched desperately against almost three times their number in enemies, now approaching point blank ranges.
The headset crackled to life. “Raider Lead, this is Cannon One. I am now operative and angling for a shot!”
Frank wanted to cheer as he heard the report. The sooner they could destroy the enemy warship in space, the sooner they could retract the cannon facility and pull back.
The cannon erupted with a roar as it unleashed a bolt into the heavens, the immense disrupter blast shooting up into the sky in a purple flash. Frank waited anxiously for the result.
“Sorry, I missed! Another minute before the next shot!” The former dropship gunner reported.
Frank wanted to rail at the missed opportunity, but the damn Lemming was firing at him again, this time with its machine guns added to the mix. Frank ignored the damage to his mech, and fired his gauss and pulse lasers. The gauss punched through the middle of the Lemming, while one pulse laser did its part by hitting the same location, while the other missed. It was enough to destroy the drone, its legs telescoping into the empty torso.
“Frank, there’s something screwy with my systems!” Frank could sense the fear in Kety’s voice.
“What’s wrong?” Frank felt they already have enough trouble holding off the enemy mechs. If Kety’s Gallowglas was having problems, then it would make one of his best warriors much less effective on the field.
“I’m not picking up either Des or Deserk on my targeting scopes, and they’re not dead yet!”
“As long as you can still target the drones, it’s alright!” Frank tried to push the problem out of his mind.
Frank twisted his mech’s torso around to fire at a Smasher that had pushed past the line, and took the opportunity to check on Des and Deserk’s status.
He was amazed to see the two warriors among the massive black hulks, dancing away with unbelievable ease from the enemy attacks, consisting of particle beams, autocannon, and missile fire. Even so, there was no reason why out of more than fifty weapons firing on them, not a single weapon hit!
Frank tried to ignore the growing queasy feeling in his mind, because his targeting cursor had refused to acquire the Nova Cat and Black Hawk as targets as well. He knew his systems were fully functional, because he was having no trouble shooting at the black mechs, but nothing else could possibly explain what he was seeing.
Descartin’s Nova Cat savaged the mechs around it, particularly those nearest the facility. His PPCs and lasers flashed out as he consistently hit the rear of the black mechs, setting off their ammunition stores and removing their most deadly weapon, the super heavy autocannon.
Deserk’s Black Hawk was equally potent, using the same tactics as Descartin, as they not only managed to survive the attacks of the black mechs, but were actually defeating the enemy!
Frank easily recognized their strategy. By taking their mechs into the middle of the enemy formation, the enemy mechs could not afford to get to the facility without exposing their rear armor to Des and Deserk. And with his part of the battle now taking place around the cannon facility, the enemy mechs could not walk to the facility with their backs to the orbital cannon either. So they stuck to trying to remove the two nuisances in their midst before advancing on the facility, which nevertheless didn’t quite explain how Des and Deserk were still in the land of the living.
He decided not to communicate with the two warriors, afraid of breaking their concentration. As Frank looked around, all he saw was a tableau of hell as the battle regressed to a brutal knife fight.
At least five black mechs had reached the facility, and were under fire from the infantry troops. SRM and man-pack PPC fire could be seen streaking from the facility and impacting on the black mechs, as tiny figures darted through the structures.
The turret of a Patton tank locked up as it was hit by a storm of SRMs from a Smasher, the crew electing to stay in the tank as they tried to shift the tank around to shoot at the Smasher. Another burst of large laser fire from a Bruiser into the tank consigned it to a fiery death.
Kety’s Gallowglas grappled with a Lemming, using the almost bare left arm and hand to punch viciously into the head of the drone, then wrenching the mech carcass around to shield his own mech from a deadly fusillade of missiles from a trio of Ants. A few SRMs still got through, tearing into the torso armor and rupturing precious heat sinks, as coolant fluid leaked down the sides of the Gallowglas.
A Partisan tank, seemingly out of ammunition, charged at a Lemming as the drone fired its own array of medium lasers. The laser blasts carved into the engine of the tank, and it exploded while still in movement. The momentum of the tank continued to carry the wreckage of the tank forward as it smashed into the Lemming in revenge for its death. The Lemming flopped over as its legs were hit, and crumpled to the ground.
A squad of anti-mech infantry launched their grapple rods onto a Lemming, and proceeded to carry out a dangerous crippling action. Another Lemming walked up and ran its machine guns over the frail bodies of the human attackers as they clung onto their target, even as they accomplished their job by planting their explosives among the vulnerable exhaust vents and joints of the mech. Their bodies fell to the ground as multiple explosions wracked the Lemming.
Frank saw Qing Hong Liu punch out of his crippled and burning Thor, as two Bruisers closed in, unleashing heavy salvos of gauss and SRM fire. Tracers pierced the air towards the ejection seat, as an Ant sought to kill Qing with its machine guns before Frank shattered it with several laser blasts.
Spidercrabs scuttled all over the ground, as they tried to connect into the facility systems, opposed by the men of the 5th Firemouths. The chatter of small arms fire could be heard as Frank moved his Night Gyr nearer the structure in pursuit of one of the Bruisers that had destroyed Qing’s Thor. The assault mech was unloading its load of Spidercrab drones, dumping them out of its cockpit in a rain of black metal to the ground.
It turned around at Frank’s approach, and the two mechs faced off and fired at the same time.
48 SRMs erupted from the many missile ports on the mech, almost half of them slamming into the Night Gyr. A spike of heat in his cockpit and the gout of smoke that appeared before his HUD rising from his center torso warned him of engine damage, while the sluggish movement of the mech told him of damage to his leg actuators. The indicators for two of the large lasers in his left torso flashed amber, then red as they warned of the weapons’ destruction. The mech rocked from side to side as the missiles did their work, as Frank struggled to keep his mech upright even as he fired back with his full arsenal of weapons.
His remaining large laser blazed out a trail of photons to the right arm of the mech, while the gauss rifle spat out a metal ball towards right torso. His medium pulse lasers stammered a line of emerald darts into the right torso, penetrating into the ammo bins. The Bruiser convulsed as its armor began to warp from the tremendous force generated from within the mech as the SRM ammo blew. The pent up energy was released in a brilliant glare of yellow flame, as the Bruiser was totally consumed by the explosion.
Frank jumped the Night Gyr to his right as a volley of LRMs slammed into the ground he had just vacated. As he landed, he discharged another salvo of laser fire at the unit that had fired, a Smasher LRM variant. The lasers melted armor over the mech’s right leg, but failed to hurt its internals.
We can’t carry on like this for much longer, Frank thought as he tried to line up another shot for the last of his gauss slugs.
The machine intelligence was frustrated by the inability
of its overwhelming forces to take control of the facility. Even the most
advanced drones were unable to remove the two enemy machines that were amongst
them wrecking havoc.
The machine intelligence could not understand why its
drones were simply unable to target the two mechs, or why their weapons kept
missing.
Even the force that had reached the cannon facility was
having a difficult time wading through the dogged defenders. The unprotected
flesh beings on foot were even able to destroy drone machines by climbing onto
the drones and placing simple explosives at vulnerable locations, something
which the Qlictorio, who insisted on using only high technology weapons and
vehicles in combat, would never have done!
The machine intelligence knew that it needed something to
end the fight soon. The surface-to-orbit cannon was simply too dangerous, and
its previous shot had come perilously close to hitting the warship. One hit
from the ground battery would knock the shields out of commission immediately,
leaving it highly susceptible to the weapons of the enemy warships. The flesh
beings had been very cunning, using remote controlled personnel boats filled
with explosives to delay its warship’s assault on the dying enemy warship for a
few precious moments, by forcing it to devote more of its energy to shoring up
its shields. Victory was still within reach, however, provided the ground
cannon did not hit the cruiser, and the best way to ensure that was to capture
it.
There was one way to assume full control of the ground
facility, and that was to remove the two nuisances to allow the super assault
drones to get to the facility, where they could overwhelm the flesh beings
there.
The machine intelligence instantly came up with two
possible options for destroying the two mechs. One was to employ its advanced
fighters to strafe the area. The fighters were tied up solidly with the human
advanced fighters, and could not disengage.
The other was to use its warship to bombard the area,
which guaranteed the destruction of the flesh beings in the area. While its own
drones would also be hit, the machine intelligence calculated that they would
be able to withstand the barrage, leaving them able to press on to the facility
and claim possession of it.
Getting the warship to move into position to bombard the
area was not a problem, as the space forces of the flesh beings were in no
shape to obstruct it. The only risk was in hitting the facility and possibly
destroying it, but the shield directly above the facility itself rendered
protection against orbital strikes, thereby removing the dangers of a miss.
Even if the warship was hit by the ground battery as it
bombarded the area, the machine intelligence gauged that the imminent capture
of the Qlictorio base would more than make up for the loss of the warship,
which was by no means certain as the flesh beings still needed quite a few
shots to destroy it even without its shields.
The machine intelligence made its decision easily. The warship began moving nearer the planet.
“What is the stravag enemy doing?” Valten Folkner asked as he observed it abandoning its final attack on the crippled and burning White Aerie to move closer to the planet below.
The White Aerie had stopped firing its weapons, and its commanding officer had ordered all his personnel to their escape pods and lifeboats, which were woefully low in number after Valten had used them in a futile attempt to damage the drone warship.
Blooms of flame could be seen burning along the scarred and torn surface of the once powerful Black Lion. Pieces of twisted armor, chunks of shattered Harjel, charred structural members, and other flotsam were slowly breaking off from the stricken warship. White clouds of water crystals were spewing from gaps in the structure, originating from the personnel quarters. Electrical sparks crackled from severed power lines, their blue arcs wildly playing on the shattered hull.
The death throes of a warship, after more than three hundred years of existence. It had survived Kerensky’s war against the Periphery, his campaign in the Terran Hegemony, the liberation of Terra. Later, it had followed him on his long journey from the Inner Sphere, along the Exodus road, leading to civil war and the formation of the clans. It had survived Trial after Trial, but who have known that it would finally meet its end around a forgotten world in the Periphery?
The Blue Aerie was firing its long range weapons for all they were worth, but to little effect. The enemy warship was moving away too quickly for the gunners to get a proper targeting lock. Adding to their problems was the fact that the enemy shields were simply too strong for the naval autocannons to take down.
Meanwhile, his XO answered his earlier question, “The enemy warship is heading for the planet. It seems to be going for a lower orbit. My best guess is that they are going for orbital bombardment.”
That had already occurred to Valten even before the officer had voiced the thought. “Can the engineers give me more thrust to intercept it?”
The XO paused for a while, turning away to speak into his headphone before replying. “Neg, our engines are not fast enough.”
“And the status of the White Aerie?”
“Star Commodore Creske Von Jankmon reports that his ship has lost all his weapons, but his engines are still capable of 30% thrust. He has ordered a ramming attack on the enemy warship once most of his crew has departed the ship.”
“Good.” Valten growled. At least the White Aerie was still useful for one last attack.
The previous miss from the only ground battery that was able to target the enemy warship had been a disappointment, but Valten had almost half-expected it. The gunners on the ground were only freebirth surats, after all, not the selectively bred and trained naval dropship crews of the clans. However, he had no choice but to rely on their dubious assistance.
Star Commander Galietra Binneti and his Seraphs were still exchanging blows with the enemy fighters, while the run-of-the-mill human fighters were down to only a star left against the thirty enemy fighters remaining.
Most of his dropships were dead in space from accumulated damage, while the jumpships were still angling for a clear shot, hindered by the constant motion of the enemy warship as they tried to rotate in space with their thrusters that were meant only for station-keeping.
There was no other choice, but to hope that the White Aerie’s final attack would open a window of opportunity for the remaining warriors in space, while he had little hope for the ground forces that were about to suffer one of the most horrendous attacks known to humankind in war, the orbital bombardment.
Galietra Binneti jerked his HOTAS hard to his left, sending the Seraph into a rapid counterclockwise roll, dodging the phaser blasts from the enemy fighter on his tail.
He bounced the Seraph down for a while before coming up and around in an Immelmann, challenging his pursuer to a full frontal assault. The two fighters faced each other in a head on pass for less than a second, and Gal fired his full load of guns and missiles as they passed within less than a kilometer from each other.
One of his phasers, two of his mass drivers, and about half his missiles missed, but they still managed to overcome the shields, the missiles shaving away all of the frontal armor before his plasma slicers cut deep into the innards of the fighter, the beams stabbing vulnerable components and control systems. The enemy fighter spun around crazily as it burned into the atmosphere, its interface and defense mechanisms shot away. It would fall apart as it fell to the ground.
He did not emerge unscathed either. His shields, except for one covering his rear, were all down after that exchange, the enemy phasers shoving them aside and even damaging the neutronium armor. A quick glance at his console displays confirmed that he had only fifty percent armor protection left for his nose and wing sections.
There were only twelve enemy fighters left, and ten Seraphs to oppose them. Trixie had punched out after her Seraph got involved in one too many scissors with the enemy, her escape pod last seen dropping onto the planet below.
That was fine by Galietra. He was good enough to fight without a wingman.
Two enemy ships flashed past his HUD, in pursuit of a Seraph that was jinking and swerving desperately to avoid the enemy fire. Gal turned his own Seraph to follow them, unleashing a swarm of missiles at one of the fighters as he did so.
The friendly Seraph slowed down, giving the enemy fighters the choice of staying on his tail and taking him down, but offering Gal the chance to open up on both enemies. Of course, they could always break away from their pursuit, but their target would survive.
They stayed on its tail.
That is why it is considered a gamble, Gal reminded himself as he tightened on his triggers, sending a salvo of missiles and azure beams towards his targets even as they pounded away at Hank Cashew’s Seraph, Hank’s rear shields flaring with energy discharges as they sought to dissipate the deadly energies from the enemy drones.
His missiles smashed into the rear thrusters of one drone, resulting in a brilliant explosion as its quantum engine unleashed its full potential in an instant. His beams lit up the shields of the other drone, but its shields held up under the assault. The drone did break away from its pursuit of Hank’s Seraph, which had just a few ergs of shield power left.
“Thanks for the assist!” Hank grunted to him.
“Thanks for the kill.” Gal replied grimly as he spied another drone slipping in behind him even as he continued chasing the surviving fighter. It fired at him with a steady steam of plasma bolts.
Galietra allowed his shields to do their job as he worked his way into his prey with plasma slicers and mass drivers. He stayed on his opponent for twenty painstaking seconds before it exploded under his fusillade of fire, topped off by his last rack of missiles to hasten its death.
He cut away down and left from his pursuer just as his rear shields gave way. It turned to continue its attack, but Peggy’s fighter cut into its flank at the same time, destroying it with an alpha strike of plasma beams, mass drivers, phasers, and missiles.
Gal took advantage of the short respite to assess the overall situation.
The enemy warship was moving closer to the planet, while the White Aerie was moving ominously with literally fire in its belly towards the enemy warship, picking up speed that Gal was sure would send it hurtling into the planetary atmosphere.
Suddenly, he saw a series of brilliant flashes from side of the enemy warship, as massive energy blasts flew towards the unsuspecting planet below. An unimpressive display for the uninitiated, but Gal knew better.
His blood ran cold as he realized he was watching an orbital bombardment in progress.
Spreading the left arm of his Night Gyr all the way out to his left, Frank tried to balance and compensate for the loss of all the remaining armor on the arm, as a gauss Bruiser hammered at him with its weapons.
He struck back with his large and medium lasers, but all they did was to scratch the paint of the heavily armored shell of the drone. A series of energy blasts from the side unexpectedly hit its legs, unbalancing the mech and toppling it to the ground.
Kety’s battered Gallowglas limped into view, maintaining the barrage with his medium pulse lasers, as he ripped at the Bruiser, the barrels stuttering out the energy darts as he tried to keep them on target on the legs, in an attempt to cripple the assault mech.
Frank added to the damage wrought with his laser weaponry, but the Bruiser still managed to lever one arm off the ground to fire a gauss slug at him.
The slug punched into the right arm of his mech, crushing all the armor left on that limb as it went further in.
Without warning, a sharp pain lanced through Frank’s head as his gauss rifle was destroyed, and hot tears stung his eyes as he lost all sense of his surroundings. All he knew was the terrible pain in his head, his mind, his brain, as he struggled to maintain his grip on his sanity and consciousness.
He felt like smashing his head against something, anything, to clear it of the hot knives sticking in his head, and he did so against the handiest target, the control console and displays in front of him, his upper torso bending over with the neurohelmet as he tried to remove the agonizing sensation by head butting the console several times.
That did not to help alleviate the pain, but it did help him claw back some of his mental faculties as the pain gradually receded. He blinked his eyes slowly to clear away the tears, trying to avoid the tiny stabs of pain whenever he made a sudden motion with any moving part of his body.
The first thing that came to him was the incessant roar of the battle raging around him. It took him a while before he realized that somebody was calling him over his headset.
“Raider Lead, please reply! You mech is not moving!” It was Kety.
“I… I’m okay, I’m okay,” Frank stammered out, hoping his voice did not sound too shaky as he slowly tried to organize his scattered thoughts. It was like trying to catch butterflies with his bare hands instead of using a net.
“What’s going on?” Frank asked, looking out through bleary, watery eyes.
“Quite a few enemies left, and that’s not counting the ones still engaging Deserk and Des. We should be able to hold those here off, but we’ll be ready for the scrap heap after that, provided a miracle happens and we don’t have to fight those damn advanced drones.”
“Reinforcements are on the way. We just have to hold out long enough!” Frank said as he took hold of his control joysticks with his hands.
“Roger that. Here they come again.”
Kety was right, as Frank checked his screens. They were finally finishing off the last few drones near the base, while Des and Deserk were still waging their own private war with the advanced drones.
And they still did not show up on his stupid radar and mech sensors. It was only by using his own eyes that he was able to verify that their presence in the fight.
Feeling a blocked sensation in his nose, Frank blew out through his nose hard. He was surprised to see a large splatter of red blood fly out onto his chin plate and the displays. The metallic, salty taste of blood on his lips and tongue further gave evidence of his massive nosebleed caused by the enormous electrical discharge and damage feedback from the ruin of the gauss rifle capacitors. Even his ears felt wet, which indicated bleeding from his ears as well. He hoped it wasn’t too serious.
Frank stomped hard on his foot pedals, sending the Night Gyr flying through the air and landing behind a Smasher that was tearing off the last few pieces of armor off Tim’s shattered Cauldron-Born.
Frank snarled through his pain, tears and blood, and fired all his remaining guns. His medium pulse lasers stammered into the rear armor of the drone, while the extended range lasers, one medium and one large, carved deep into the engine, shutting it down as the containment material was utterly melted away.
By now most of the attacking drones had been disabled or neutralized, but likewise, Frank could count only five mechs and three vehicles left on the field. Out of a hundred infantry troopers, he could see only about twenty left, deployed into one makeshift platoon.
He turned around to face the advanced drones, to employ his sole ER large laser against them, just in time to see the heavens open up with blinding light.
The bolt from the sky slammed onto the plains like the hand of an angry deity, pressing its terrible weight against the mechs battling there. An advanced drone simply fell apart under the ravening hell of the naval grade weapon, vaporized into nothingness.
Frank fought down the bile in his throat, as he tried to watch out for the two warriors who were caught in the orbital bombardment. The radio was overrun with chatter, as this latest debacle threatened to break the troops’ already tenuous hold on their morale and spirits.
“Stay close to the facility!” Frank yelled as he remembered the shield over the ground battery. “Stick to within fifty meters of the ground gun, and the shield above will protect us!”
But that still left Deserk and Descartin Winters exposed to the warship above.
Get out, dammit, get out! Frank willed the two to take shelter under the shield, but he also knew, deep down, that they would never do so.
He glanced at his screen. Reinforcements arriving in just one more minute. Hold on, we have to hold on!
Kily Gonzalez sprinted his Wolfhound to the top of a hill, as he followed Bryan’s Fenris, who was leading the way.
They had finished their last assignment, and were heading towards the nearest battle site, without any black mechs chasing them, which Bryan had said was due to their focus on the fleeing groups and the ground battery sites.
The bright blast of light from the skies a moment ago had been a real shock, and they had pushed their mechs to their utmost to get to the ongoing battle. Kily feared the worst, but he kept silent. And so did everybody else.
As his Wolfhound crested the hilltop, Kily was struck by a scene literally from hell itself.
Fires burned everywhere, while battlemechs, torn and bleeding from busted heat sinks, milled around near the ground cannon facility, pausing now and then to get a shot off in the direction of one of the most awesome sights Kily had even seen.
Two human mechs were among the midst of more than ten hulking assault mechs, each enemy drone packed with missile racks and a honking big autocannon. And more than that, the two mechs were holding off the their opponents.
For some strange reason, his sensors couldn’t tell him about the damage on the two mechs, a Black Hawk and a Nova Cat, but he could tell with his eyes alone that they were badly mangled, probably from the orbital strike. But the drone mechs were still missing at practically point blank ranges!
“Move forward! We’re going to support them!” Bryan ordered.
“Are you nuts?” Patrice protested. “Did you see the combined enemy tonnage out there? And that’s even before the blast God knows where from above our heads!”
“I know, I know, but we have to move forward just to draw away some of their attention. Lee, jump your Spider in among them, maybe we can get them to friendly fire on each other, since they don’t seem to be able to target Des and Deserk either. As for the rest of you, SOP, engage at range.”
Kily personally thought that was a rather hopeful plan, but Lee’s Spider did start pumping its thin and spindly legs down to the brawl below, while the other members of the lance sniped away with PPCs and laser fire.
Switching over to the battlegroup frequency, Kily heard Frank’s voice.
“Deserk, get out of there! Your mechs can’t take another orbital strike! Reinforcements are on the way, we can take them as a group now!”
“Neg, neg!” Des replied, breathless with pain. “If we go now, they will still be able to hit you at long range with those missiles and PPCs. And the warship has to go to low orbit for bombardment, which gives the ground battery a better chance of hitting it. Make it count!”
“You’re right, my old sibmate,” Deserk cut in, “but you forgot one thing.”
Deserk continued in a low tone. “Only one of us is needed here to hold their attention.”
Kily watched in amazement as the Black Hawk suddenly turned its guns on the Nova Cat, eviscerating it with a well placed PPC blast into the center torso.
“What are you mean? No, freebirth! Don’t do this to me…” Winters’ shout trailed off.
The Nova Cat died as its engine exploded in a release of plasma, but the cockpit did split open as a small ejection seat flew up and out in a release of fire from the doomed mech. The seat flew to its apex before deploying its parachute as it drifted slowly to the ground.
Bryan did not hesitate, “Lee, get that ejection seat!” And he spoke in a somber voice, “Deserk, your name will appear in the Remembrance. This I swear!”
The Spider leapt into the air, propelled on jets of fusion flame, snagging the ejection pod easily by grabbing the parafoils with its hands. It landed and started sprinting the moment it hit the ground, as Lee managed to avoid the rain of fire targeting him with some expert evasion moves.
For their part, the other warriors peppered the enemy with long range fire, disrupting the attacks of the enemy as Lee tried to get to the safety of the umbrella shield over the facility.
“Flash, flash!” The ground battery gunner warned as the skies surged open with light once again.
The blast landed squarely on Deserk’s dying Black Hawk. Kily found himself screaming with rage as the mech blew apart in a ball of crimson fire, as it was joined by several black mechs around it, as they died in sympathetic detonations. There was no ejection, and it would have been useless anyway, with the strobing laser blasts playing over the field for several seconds, ensuring the death of anybody caught in its deadly embrace.
Kily realized he wasn’t alone in his anger, as the entire human force had advanced to the limits of the shield and started firing everything they had left at the enemy drone force.
The ground battery finally replied to the fire from heaven, sending up its own disrupter bolt. But Kily paid it no heed, even as his radar signaled the entry of their reserves. All he wanted was to see the enemy stomped and dead under the feet of his Wolfhound.
Galietra Binneti had teamed up with Hank Cashew, taking apart the last advanced enemy drone fighter with tandem plasma slicers and phaser shots. The enemy aerospace fighter broke apart under their barrage, splintering into a thousand pieces of tiny wreckage divided by a series of explosions.
It was the hardest, most grueling battle he had ever fought in. Out of the thirty Seraphs they had started out with, there were only five left. The other three fighters had been sent to help mop up the remaining enemy drones that were less advanced, but nevertheless still causing problems for the clan flyers.
“Commencing torpedo run,” Gal signaled Hank.
“Roger. Covering your ass.” The Inner Sphere pilot took up the eight o’clock position with respect to Gal.
Pilot, not freebirth. Gal had seen their prowess and determination for himself, and they were every bit as deserving of the term of warrior and pilot as any clansman. He would never again talk of the warriors of the Inner Sphere in disparaging terms again.
Lining up his fighter with the enemy warship, Gal saw the White Aerie charging towards the enemy warship, intent on mutual destruction, even as it fired another salvo of beams towards the planet. Another few blasts whipped out to strike the White Aerie, smashing into the bridge section, but the warship stayed on its course towards the enemy drone warship.
The enemy warship seemed to realize the Black Lion’s intentions only at the last moment, and it tried to move out of the way. It was too late, but just enough however, as the White Aerie dealt it a glancing blow amidships before it veered off into the planetary atmosphere, a burning hulk of metal and polymer.
The enemy warship’s shields flared and flickered dangerously as it tried to absorb the massive amounts of kinetic energy from the impact. Gal could read from his sensors that the shields failing, and that another few naval grade shots would bring it down totally.
And one promptly arrived from the surface of the planet, from the ground battery. The disrupter bolt splayed all over the shields, bringing them down to less than 3% left.
The one-two punch was followed by Valten Folkner’s order over the open frequency.
“All jumpships, fire!”
The thrust exhaust of the jumpships ignited with light, sending a long invisible stream of hydrogen ions towards the tottering drone warship, which was trying desperately to restore its shields. They flogged the warship relentlessly, squashing aside the last of the energy shield.
Gal saw his displays for the torpedo lock glow green, signifying that the torpedo could be fired. He promptly mashed the trigger with a vengeance, sending the long projectile on its way.
He had asked Lorik about the contents of the torpedo warhead, but all the scientist would say was that it was not nuclear, since to use a nuclear weapon runs counter to the beliefs of the clans. As the warhead punched into the enemy warship in a brilliant glare of energy, even brighter than any nuclear blast, Gal realized from his energy readings that Lorik had told him the complete truth. The warhead was not nuclear, fission, fusion, or otherwise.
It could only be antimatter. From the sheer surge of energy, several magnitudes greater than even the largest atomic device. Nothing was left of the enemy warship.
As he flew the fighter in triumph over the Blue Aerie, Valten Folkner contacted him.
“Star Commander, proceed to Orbital Cannon Site A to provide close air support. Their lines are about to collapse! I will take care of the enemy AI. Personally.” It was a promise.
“Aff, Star Commodore!” Along with the last few fighters in space, he swooped into the planet’s atmosphere. It was, he was sure, the very last chapter in their epic campaign.
The remaining thirteen advanced drones lumbered on, finally free of their tormentors. Many were damaged, but they were still more than sufficient to crush the defenders.
Frank tried to keep his body from shaking as he fired his remaining large laser in despair, trying just to slow, not halt their advance. Bryan’s lance had placed themselves to the rear of the enemy, firing with little effect on their back armor.
He was afraid, but he could still feel his rage from their callous destruction of Deserk’s Black Hawk. He knew they were drones, machines, incapable of emotion, but that did not lessen his fury any. In fact, that was the only thing still holding him on the field, fighting with his measly weaponry.
Deserk had been a good friend, a good man. It didn’t matter that he was a clanner, or that he was once a Nova Cat. He had stuck by Frank when he had just been pushed into the role of commander, mentoring Frank in the real life practicalities of leadership. And if it wasn’t for Deserk, Frank doubted they would have gotten Descartin Winters and his Scorpions over to their side as easily.
The roar of an autocannon announced the arrival of their reinforcements, as a Musketeer hovertank engaged with its RAC/5, followed by the thump-thump of a Fafnir’s dual heavy gauss rifles. The shells all crashed into a drone, shattering the armor on one side as it turned to oppose this new threat.
The added supporting units came in from their left, smashing into the flank of the drones. Frank was gratified to see that his plan of putting some of their best units in reserve had paid off. Many of the lone operators, for some reason or another, were equipped with cutting edge technology mechs and vehicles.
A huge Sagittaire lit up the battlefield with its jumpjets as it closed within range of its pulse lasers, braving the storm of autocannon fire from its enemy as it carved the advanced drone apart with its pulse lasers backed by a Federated Suns targeting computer.
A Manteuffel attack omnitank dueled with a drone, its super heavy ultra autocannon gouging gaping holes into the legs of a drone even as it weathered two ER PPC blasts to its front.
The drones counterattacked hard, but the new units managed to hold and even take down three more drones in their initial assault.
A scream from the sky heralded the return of their Seraphs, as they flew down like avenging angels, scouring the drones with plasma slicers, mass driver blasts, and phaser beams.
The drones suddenly hesitated, not knowing what to do. Frank checked his sensors, and realized that was because the drone command ship had just been wiped out by a volley of naval autocannon fire from the Blue Aerie.
Deprived of instruction, the drones had been thrown into confusion. All over his strategic borad, Frank could see that drone forces had halted in their tracks. Most of the battlegroups were still in good shape, and many of them had been damaged badly, but still in command of the field.
“Come on people!” Frank ordered. “One last push!” He began to close in with the drones, despite the severe damage to his Night Gyr. Triggering his lasers, he played the shafts of energy over the nearest drone, penetrating an ammo bin and setting off an explosion.
Payback’s a bitch. Frank continued spraying his pulse lasers over the target as Kety joined in with his large lasers and PPC. The drone staggered under the assault, before it was finished off by a strafing attack from a Seraph, the plasma slicers literally cutting the structure into three large pieces. Frank and Kety took no chances, reducing the pieces to slag as they laid on the smoking ground.
The last advanced drone finally fell, under a murderous barrage of fire from Bryan’s recon lance. As the battle ended, Frank found himself panting heavily, from the sweltering heat in his cockpit and the sheer exertion of the fight.
All over the field, broken machines lay scattered in heaps of burning metal. Unexploded warheads peppered the landscape, while the ground had been churned into mud from the movement of their machines.
Frank popped his cockpit hatch, and jumped out, as the survivors gathered into a circle near the facility. It was not for fresh air.
He retched out a long stream of vomit as he landed on the ground, unable to hold back the pain in his stomach nor the fear within him anymore. He wrenched off his neurohelmet and continued spewing the contents of his guts, even as Kety, Bryan, and the reinforcement detachment commander, a female mechwarrior named Cecilia Dawson approached. All of them, with the exception of Cecilia, looked horrible and haggard.
Frank stared up with bleary eyes and gave a weary smile. “We look like shit, eh?”
“All enemy units have been contained, Frank.” Bryan spoke, ignoring his comment. “The Blue Aerie is pounding the shit out of them from orbit even as we speak. Most of the other battlegroups are pulling back into the holes. Maybe we should do the same.”
Frank nodded. “Where’s Winters? He’s not here.”
Everybody looked around for the clanner, before an infantryman found him staring at the remnants of Deserk’s Black Hawk. He simply stood here for a long time before Yoshino walked up to him and started to drag him away. As Des turned around, Frank was struck by his eyes.
They look dead. Correction. They are dead. He didn’t understand what was going on in Des’ mind, but he knew he couldn’t if he tried. He suspected there would be repercussions from what had happened here.
It’s over. It’s all over. Frank tried to feel happy, or even glad, but found he couldn’t do so.
Purple light
In the army
That is where
I want to be
Every day
I am training
With my rifle, my buddy, and me
SOC
Is killing me
Log PT
Just breaks my back
Sore feet
With endless marching
With my rifle, my buddy, and me
Booking out
To see my girlfriend
Saw her with
Another man
Beat the man
Go to DB
With my rifle, my buddy, and me
Purple light
At the warfront
That is where
My buddy died
If I die
Would you bury me
With my rifle, my buddy, and me…