Fox Lance, led by Hugh de Payens in a Firestarter, attacked the first Goliath to complete the turn and engage Delta Company head on. As Hugh closed, two of his three flamers bathed the large ’Mech in orange fire. The Goliath pilot cranked his PPC muzzle down, releasing a savage bolt of blue lighting that stabbed the left side of the Firestarter’s chest. Armor peeled off like butter rolling up a knife, but it failed to fully breach the Firestarter’s armor.
Hugh’s lancemates swept in beneath the PPC’s azure beam. The three ungainly, birdlike Jenners released flights of short-range missiles that spiraled out at their massive target. Brilliant explosions blossomed over the Goliath’s torso, and two of the SRMs pierced the ’Mech’s chest armor to sow havoc in its heart. Black smoke began to pour from the hole, indicating damage to the engine shielding.
The Jenners and both Firestarters of Fox Lance raked the Goliath with relentless ruby beams of laser fire that shredded armor on the ’Mech’s left legs. Through the ragged holes, Andrew saw the massive, corded myomer fibers that made up the artificial muscles driving the Goliath. One more barrage and that ’Mech is done for.
Andrew turned his attention to the Goliath just forward of his position. It had begun to turn in an attempt to attack Delta Company, but all it had managed to do was expose its left flank to Cat Lance. Without a second thought, Geoffrey St. Omer and his MechWarriors made the most of the opportunity.
The two humanoid Javelins launched two dozen SRMs at the ponderous assault ’Mech. The missiles, augmented by another dozen SRMs from the lance’s three Jenners, peppered the ’Mech’s left flank and long legs. They spawned a fire-torrent whirling around the Goliath’s left foreleg. As the twisting column of fire changed to dark, greasy smoke, it spat glowing, half-melted shards of ceramic armor to the frozen ground.
The Goliath’s pilot fought valiantly to bring his machine around, but Cat Lance gave him no quarter. Even as the Goliath’s PPC muzzle tried to find a target, the Jenners fired their wing-mounted lasers. Like surgeons in a field hospital, they concentrated on the Goliath’s obvious injury.
Andrew dropped his targeting crosshairs onto the Goliath’s weakened forelimb. In concert with those of Cat Lance, his lasers stabbed out. The scarlet beams vaporized what little armor remained on the leg, then cut up into the Goliath’s shoulder. In a font of burning metal fragments, the joint melted and the left leg slipped. The Goliath tottered to the left, then the limb snapped off, spinning the ’Mech to the ground. The assault ’Mech tumbled back into half a somersault, crushing the cockpit, before it fell heavily onto its wounded flank.
Andrew pivoted his Firestarter to the left as a searing white fireball shot from the holes in another Goliath’s right flank. Andrew watched as the miniature sun of the Goliath’s fusion engine sent superheated plasma tendrils throughout the ’Mech’s body. Looking like a DropShip blasting for the stars, the Goliath’s turret shot into the air on an argent jet, then exploded into a million smoking scraps.
Poor bastard. Never got out. Andrew felt a pang of sympathy for the Liao pilot, then glanced at the tactical display on his auxiliary monitor. Four Goliaths down and three badly hurt.
Suddenly, a spiral of oily smoke dissipated, giving Redburn a clear view of a Goliath in the middle of the Liao formation. Riding just above the stylized white castle marking the ’Mech as a member of Cochraine’s Goliaths, Andrew thought he saw an insignia. He punched a command for magnification into his command console. The holographic display refocused closer, showing sunlight glinting off the bronze triangle boldly emblazoned on the ’Mech.
Typing hurriedly onto his command console’s keypad, Andrew labeled the ’Mech’s image with a digital ID tag, then sent the information out to his command. “Archer and Demon Lances, that’s Colonel Fiona Cochraine. Hit that Goliath with everything you’ve got!”
At his command, the two lances unleashed a hundred LRMs at the Liao commander’s Goliath. Explosions saturated the ’Mech, flaying ribbons of ceramic armor from its surface. One flight wreathed the turret in flames, crumpling previously unmarred slabs of armor. The Goliath staggered as the pilot fought against the detonation’s shockwave. Smoke poured from a hole in the ’Mech’s chest.
With the range and hurried timing of the assault, the accuracy of the long-range lances’ laser fire suffered. Somehow, though, the shots that did hit the target made up in quality for the deficiencies of the other attacks. One beam carved more armor from the Goliath’s chest, leaving the ’Mech with only a pitifully small amount of protection against future assaults. Most important, one coruscating beam stabbed straight through the Goliath’s head.
Andrew saw the Goliath shudder. It wavered, and for a moment, he imagined that the laser had hit the cockpit, killing the pilot, but the ’Mech’s continued activity dashed those hopes. Sending thundering shockwaves through the ground, the Goliath planted its feet widely enough apart to steady itself. Its PPC moved like an eye on a stalk, then locked onto one of the offending ’Mechs with the callousness of a child stomping on a cockroach.
“Craon, move! It’s got you in its sights!” Almost reflexively, Andrew stabbed both feet down, igniting the plasma jets on the Firestarter’s back. Inertia slammed him back into his command couch as his ’Mech rocketed up and out toward Cochraine’s Goliath. No free shots on my command! Both arm-mounted flamers blazing, Redburn brought his ’Mech down on the Goliath.
Blood gushed from his nose and filled his mouth with a salty-sweet thickness as the impact’s shockwave jolted up through his cockpit. Andrew felt tooth chips grind beneath his molars. Lights flared everywhere in his cockpit and alarms rang with brain-numbing intensity, but failed to cover the scream of metal and the sharp cracking of ceramic armor. Static filled his holoscreens and sparks shot from behind his command couch. Waves of heat washed up and over him as dazzling white fire flashed around the Firestarter. Again, he felt himself slammed down into the couch, but his legs had fallen from their positions on the jump jet controls. Some titanic force grabbed his Firestarter at the feet, whipping the thirty-five-ton ’Mech into the air like a doll.
Andrew clawed desperately for the eject button, but gravity pinned his arms into place on the command couch’s arms. Spots flashed before his eyes and a dim, horrifying realization crawled up from the place where his nightmares hid. Out of control… G-forces too much. Can’t black out! Gritting his teeth, he forced his right hand to punch again at the eject button, but consciousness had already drained away before he could hit it.
Chapter 42
OUTBOUND
TERRA
21 AUGUST 3028
Daniel Allard started so violently as Morgan Kell’s low laughter filled his JumpShip cabin that he nearly dropped the green strip of silk hanging from his fingers. Dan whirled to face the narrow cabin’s hatchway. “I’m sorry, Colonel. Is there something you need from me?”
Morgan smiled broadly and shook his head. “You’ve got it bad for that woman, haven’t you, Daniel?” He folded his arms across the chest of his dark blue jumpsuit. “You’ve been preoccupied since we saw the Archon and her daughter off on their JumpShip earlier today. I’m sure your lady love would have been there, but she probably had many things to do.”
Dan narrowed his eyes until they were little more than sapphire crescents. How much do you really know, Morgan? The Archon trusts you, but would she trust you with this? Dan glanced down at the silk strip. “The Archon-Designate said as much to me when we saw them off. That’s when she gave me this… Said it was from Jeana.”
Morgan held out his hand, and Dan reluctantly passed the cloth to him. “Well, Dan, this lets you know she shares your feelings.” Morgan turned the cloth over in his big hands. “If Sanglamore cadets successfully complete their final training run in a ’Mech, the graduates receive one of these headbands.” Morgan smiled, the expression in his brown eyes growing distant. “I’ve heard stories about mortal wounds healing when bound with one of these things, and other superstitious tales that go around in
MechWarrior circles. I do know of one MechWarrior who used his Sanglamore Sash to strangle the Draconian who captured him after he ejected.”
Dan nodded slowly. “I’ve heard the same sort of thing about Albion grads and their damned ’Mech charms.”
Morgan chuckled evilly. “Yeah, at the Nagelring, we always thought the idea of keeping a piece of your first ’Mech with you was kind of silly. Why would anyone willingly carry around evidence that they’d been shot out of a ’Mech?”
His expression brightening briefly, Dan smiled. “Well, it proves you survived.”
Morgan shrugged. “As they say at the Nagelring, that’s why the body forms scars…” Morgan handed the meter-long strip of cloth back to Dan. “Sanglamore grads usually wear these things as headbands in combat. They only give them up when dead, or when they want to ensure someone else’s survival. Pretty powerful stuff.”
That’s not the half of it, Morgan… Dan looked back up at his commander. His gaze swept over Morgan’s strong features, but failed to pierce the man’s emotional mask. “I suppose part of my distraction comes from seeing the Archon-Designate head back to the Commonwealth with her mother.” Dan shrugged. “I mean, well, one night isn’t much of a honeymoon, is it?”
Morgan shook his head. “I’d hope for more, I think. But you have to remember that no matter what Hanse and Melissa feel for one another, their marriage was political. Declaring war on Liao, Marik, and Kurita on the day of the wedding points that up in no uncertain terms. As a political marriage, it had to be consummated, but staying together any longer than they did was impossible for them at this time.”
Dan nodded slowly. “The war’s not likely to be popular in the Commonwealth, is it?”
Morgan smiled coldly. “All wars are popular as long as your side is winning, but your point is well taken. Aldo Lestrade will have to do something to counteract whatever popularity the Archon will pick up in this exchange. Because of the advantage of surprise, the LCAF will have several early victories. After that, things will bog down, or Kurita will counterstrike hard and things may go badly.”
Do you know the truth, Morgan? Dan nodded. “The Archon couldn’t afford to have her daughter stay with Hanse Davion because that could be made to look as though she’d sold out the entire Commonwealth.” As Morgan nodded slowly in reply, Dan sprang his trap. “Still, it must have been hard for the Archon to keep her daughter away from the man she loves.”
Morgan stiffened almost imperceptibly, then studied Dan with a harsh gaze. The colonel unfolded his arms and slowly closed the cabin’s hatch. From a pocket in his jacket, he took a small cylindrical device no larger than his thumb, held it up, then nodded in satisfaction. In a cold, dangerous voice, he asked, “How did you know?”
Not what, but how do I know… Dan suddenly felt sweat beading on his brow. He swallowed hard because his mouth had gone dry, then nodded. “That thing…it tells you the room is secure?”
Morgan nodded. “How do you know, Captain?”
The fearful menace in Morgan’s voice obliterated the joy Dan had felt in drawing his conclusion. He’s afraid Melissa might be in some jeopardy. Dan held up his hands. “No, Colonel, don’t worry. It’s no leak. A lucky break…only one in a zillion people might have noticed, but I’ve told no one.” Dan looked down at the green sash. “Until your question confirmed it, I could barely believe it myself.”
Morgan’s dark visage eased a bit. “Tell me, Dan. I’ll not have Melissa endangered.”
Dan nodded. “You will recall that when we saw the Archon and Melissa off, you hugged both of them? I bid them farewell in a bit more restrained manner. I shook hands with the Archon, then I kissed Melissa’s hand.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“Melissa was wearing a perfume called Nocturne. She’d dabbed some of it on her wrist.” Dan smiled as he remembered the day on the beach. “Jeana told me it was a fragrance created especially for Melissa, but that the Archon-Designate hated it and never wore it. In fact, Jeana said, Melissa had given the entire supply to her because she liked it.”
Dan met Morgan’s dark gaze. “Now I know why Jeana was so secretive about herself. And that’s why she made a play for me. Melissa is traveling back to New Avalon as Jeana, pretending to get to know my family.” Dan’s mouth dropped open as he numbly swung his head side to side. “What could be more perfectly secure and natural?”
As his hand crushed the silk, Dan turned from Morgan to stare at the bulkhead. “Now I know how Justin felt when he found himself on trial.” Dan slammed his fist on the desk. “How could my father do that to me?”
Morgan settled both of his strong hands on Dan’s shoulders. Dan wanted to fight him, to pull away and let his anger flash out like a PPC blast, but Morgan held him firmly. “You’ve hit on pieces of the plan, my friend, but you’ve not got it straight.”
Morgan released Dan, then moved back to his place by the door. “No one had expected me to bring you to the wedding as my aide. Katrina believed I’d bring Salome, but as you’ll recall, Salome insisted on remaining to complete training with First Battalion. I chose you to accompany me because I knew your parents would be there.”
Morgan looked down at the JumpShip deck. “Jeana was supposed to strike up a friendship with your sister. She already had papers showing her to be a transfer student to the New Avalon Institute of Science. Because your sister attends classes and teaches there, the friendship would have seemed natural.” Morgan grinned. “Your friendship with her seemed yet more natural.”
Dan turned slowly. “Why didn’t my father tell me?”
Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know. I only found this out when Katrina and I spoke the night of the wedding. She explained it to me so I’d not betray anything when we saw them off. I suspect your father would have told you on Friday night but…”
Dan nodded. “He never got the chance.”
Dan opened his mouth to ask a question, but Morgan waved it away. “Don’t ask. If it were all a lie, she’d never have given you that sash.” Morgan pointed at the shiny green ribbon threaded through Dan’s knotted fists. “There’s your proof.”
Dan grinned sheepishly. “Point taken.” He looked up. “Thanks. This has been eating me alive. I didn’t know if Jeana was part of some plot by Lestrade, or something even more strange.”
Morgan smiled openly. “I need you sane and clear, Dan, so I thought I’d try to reassure you. I didn’t expect the conversation to take this turn, but I’m glad it did. In this war, I can’t afford to have a company commander preoccupied with anything but his people.”
“Roger that, Colonel.” Dan smiled as he recalled the pandemonium following the Prince’s announcement concerning the Capellan Confederation. “I’ll be more concerned about my people than old Max Liao was about grabbing dessert dishes.”
Morgan threw back his head and laughed heartily. “It must have been a full five seconds of dead and utter shocked silence after Prince Hanse made the announcement. Takashi Kurita looked as if he’d been slapped with a cold squid.”
“And I thought old Janos Marik was going to have a stroke,” Dan said. “His face turned red, and then purple when he saw his consort looking at the Prince with her lusty eyes. Still, Maximilian Liao’s reaction had to be the best…”
The Kell Hound colonel nodded in agreement. “When he shot from his seat, I thought he was going to launch straight away for his JumpShip. He croaked a couple of times, then clutched his dessert plate to his chest as though it were solid gold! Then he started shouting at his wife and daughters to gather up the plates because they’re military intelligence! ‘They show the worlds he means to conquer!’ Max bellowed. I hope the Liao defenses are more organized than their leader.”
Dan chewed his lower lip. “I think they will be. Did you see Justin’s reaction? He just stood there, rock still, and glared at the Prince while all hell broke loose around him. He took absolutely no notice of nobles and MechWarriors fighting over plates, cake flying everywhere
, and the ComStar acolytes trying to calm things down. Justin raised his champagne glass in that steel hand of his and waited for the Prince to return the salute. When the Prince did so, they both drank, and then Justin crushed his glass…”
Morgan narrowed his dark eyes. “Very bad blood there. You may well be right to suggest that Liao’s forces will be well-organized if Justin has any say in the matter. I actually think Hanse Davion has more to fear from him than he does from Max Liao.”
Dan nodded, then deflected the conversation away from thoughts of his brother. “What is really happening out there, Colonel, if I may ask?”
Morgan half-closed his eyes. “If things are going according to plan, Davion forces have landed—or will soon be landing—on nine different Liao worlds. The initial invasion hits all the worlds on the Tikonov-Sarna border…”
Dan dredged a map out of his memory. “At the narrow point, choking Tikonov off from the rest of the Capellan Confederation?”
Morgan nodded. “The Federated Suns had their troops gathered up for the Galahad exercises, but launched deep into Liao space. They grossly outnumber and outclass the troops they’re going against, but nothing is certain in war.” Morgan pressed his lips together into a thin, grim line. “That said, Liao troops would have to fight far better than they have in the past to avoid being overwhelmed.”
Dan frowned. “Won’t Kurita attack the Federated Suns to help Liao?”
Morgan opened his hands. “Wolf’s Dragoons left the Draconis Combine in a hostile fashion. Lots of troops got ripped up in the Galedon Military District, and Wolf’s set his people up to hammer any and all comers House Kurita wants to send to him. The war’s gotten personal there… It’s less House Davion versus House Kurita than it is Jaime Wolf versus the Draconis Combine.”
Warrior: Riposte (The Warrior Trilogy, Book Two): BattleTech Legends, #58 Page 29