"Morning everyone. Anything to chew on around here?"
"Some battlefield rations and that's about it," said Hawkes. "How you feeling?"
"I feel rotten, thank you. What's happening?" Duncan took the ration pack Hawkes handed him and began to pop it open.
"We'll know in a few minutes. Trane sent Blix in that scout car to the edge of the forest. Sooner or later one of their scouts is going to see our tracks and follow them back here."
"I thought I heard rifle fire a few minutes ago," said Bovos.
Duncan moved slowly to a tree stump and sat down to chew on some rations. Hawkes and Dawn had found seats on the trunk of a fallen tree and were also gnawing on their bars. "What's the line-up for today?"
"Dawn will stick with the Orion and Bovos will keep the JagerMech. We got your BattleMaster and my Crusader from the DropShip earlier this morning. Trane's got the Warhammer Bovos piloted on Galatea. Villier's Wolverine is in good shape, Auramov plugged up some holes in his Wasp,
Ben-Ari is going to take over the Archer, and Blix swears he can keep the Atlas going a while longer."
"Listen, if anyone wants to talk me out of fighting today I want you to know it's perfectly all right with me," said Duncan.
His three companions looked at each other and smiled, but then went back to munching on their rations and said nothing. The clanking sound of the small transport returning got their attention. Several minutes later Trane came walking up, followed by Blix.
"So ... what's happening out there?" Hawkes asked.
"They've got scouts out all over the place. Both ground troops and 'Mechs. One of the scout cars found the road leading into these woods," Trane said.
"I heard rifle shots," said Bovos.
"Blix got one of 'em."
"Good."
"Not good," said Blix. "There were two."
"The fat's in the fire now," said Bovos.
"Let's mount up," said Duncan, then added sheepishly, "I think I'm gonna need some help."
As they moved out onto the plain, Auramov, Ben-Ari, Villiers, and Blix took up flanking positions to the right and left of Trane a hundred meters apart. With Trane in the lead, it was a somber line of 'Mechs that lumbered out of the forest,
"My 'Mechs are in the best shape," Trane called to Duncan. "Why don't we move forward about half a kilometer? The plain dips down there. We'll go about halfway down and set up a skirmish line. The rest of you stay on the crest for bombardment."
"Sounds good to me." Duncan knew the combined weaponry of the BattleMaster, Orion, JagerMech, and Crusader made for firepower of Herculean proportions. The Orion's Death Bloom missile system could launch 15 LRMs in a concentrated pattern, the JagerMech had its awesome autocannons, the Crusader a full spread of 42 missiles, and the BattleMaster its big PPC. They could unleash a lot of lethal force—as long as their ammo held out. Trane was right. They would make a good bombardment line.
"Auramov, why don't you scoot over the hill and see what's coming?"
"On my way, Captain ... uh ... no need. I see infantry coming our way."
Even before Auramov had finished speaking Trane caught sight of the advancing ground troops, including assault teams carrying portable SRM launchers—potent anti-'Mech weapons. "Hold your positions," he said. "Wait until they get well within range. Villiers and I will use our machine guns first, then Duncan and Dawn will back us up with their energy weapons if necessary. No autocannons or missiles."
It was a suicidal attack. No sane commander would throw infantry into a first-wave assault against nine 'Mechs. The only explanation was that the enemy commander hoped to force the Demons to expend their remaining explosive ammo. The ground soldiers broke ranks and began running toward the Demons. The SRM squads moved slower, unable to set up to fire until they were within 300 meters.
"Trane, I'm going to move down closer. This BattleMaster has two machine guns and you're going to need them. That looks like a battalion of bodies out there."
"Good idea. Let's concentrate on the SRM squads and knock them out before they get in range. Commence firing. .. NOW!"
Even in the daylight, belches of flame could be seen shooting out a meter from the muzzles of the machine guns. Every tenth round was a "tracer" that gave off an eerie glow as it sped to its target, helping the Demons pinpoint their firing pattern. Duncan saw three bodies catapulted through the air when he hit an SRM squad's reload case. In less than two minutes the withering barrage of bullets forced the attacking infantry to fall back.
"Think they've had enough, Trane?"
"No. I think they'll keep it up until there are none left or we run out of ammunition. See what I mean?"
Duncan looked out toward the crest of the small hill. Infantry officers were shooting at their own troops, forcing them to turn back and attack the Demons again. His finger began to tighten on the trigger.
"Who's firing explosive rounds?" Trane's voice was angry-Duncan looked to the south, where small explosions were popping up all over the plain. "It's not us. Those are grenades."
"It's the Claves. They've decided to join us." There was exultation in Bovos's voice at the sight of the banners of the New St. Andrews natives fluttering in the air above the charging Clavesmen. Though poorly armed, they were rushing at the New Republican Guards infantry with wild abandon. For every Clavesman that fell dead to the ground, ten seemed to take his place. By sheer weight of numbers they drove the Guards back to the north, passing directly in front of the Demons.
"Do you see them, Trane?"
"Yes, I see them." Trane smiled. The images were crudely drawn on a piece of white cloth tied around each Clansman's chest, but they were still identifiable representations of a demon's head.
"Captain, you won't believe what's coming." It was Jon Blix calling from his position south of Trane and the other Knights.
Trane's mouth gaped open at the sight. At least two hundred horsemen were galloping northward after the retreating Guards. Most had rifles and pistols of various makes, but Trane saw a few wielding nothing more than swords and spears. Horsebreeders, the Clavesmen had formed a mounted unit.
"I guess you could say the cavalry's arrived," Duncan said.
"And more company on the way," called Hawkes.
Duncan looked back to the east. At this distance they were little more than dark sticks on the horizon. But there were a lot of those dark, slender shapes. They weren't close enough for the tactical screens to give a total readout, but he could tell it was at least a battalion. Duncan felt a chill run over his body. It could be fever from his wound, but more likely it was because he was watching death slowly coming at them. He and the rest of the Demons sat waiting silently for what seemed like a long time before they could actually make out their new foes.
"The bastards!" Trane's cry was one of pure indignation. The advancing line of 'Mechs stopped at 300 meters. The Crimson Reapers from Astrokazy held the center of the formation directly opposite the Demons. On one of their 'Mechs they were flying the tattered remains of a battle standard bearing the shield of the Knights of the Inner Sphere. It was a crude boast that they were one of the raiding parties who'd impersonated the Knights, and now flaunted their flimsy disguise before real Knights.
"Attack," screamed Trane.
The ground trembled as both sides opened fire. The light and medium 'Mechs in the Reapers' front ranks began to splinter from the bombardment laid on them by Dawn, Bovos, and Duncan. But more 'Mechs from other companies of the Republican Guards could be seen coming up to either side of the Reapers.
"Dawn, to your left. A Rifleman is trying to get behind you," Hawkes warned.
Dawn saw the Rifleman making a run some hundred meters south of her. The pilot was attempting to give himself covering fire by rotating the 'Mechs torso as it moved to keep its weapons bearing on her. It fired twice more before the torso began to rotate 360 degrees without stopping.
"Ha! That's the one with the bottom half of a Warhammer" Hawkes gloated. "Did I bugger up that
baby or not? Don't waste your ammo, Dawn. He's going to be dizzy for quite a while."
"The Reapers are moving up their heavy stuff," called Duncan. He could see heavy and assault 'Mechs taking the place of their fallen, lighter comrades in their front ranks. An 80-ton Zeus began pumping large laser bursts into Auramov's Wasp. The light 'Mech erupted into flame and then exploded.
Trane barely had time to register the loss of the young Lieutenant.
"Ben-Ari to Trane. I'm hit. I'm hit." Trane had seen the Marauder open up with its two Hellstar PPCs, firing first one and then another. The high-energy bolts tore into the armor of Ben-Ari's Archer and there was little he could do but watch. His two Doombud LRM racks were empty. Trane got off a PPC shot that looked like it hit one of the Marauder's arms, but it wasn't enough. The next two shots from the Marauder plowed into the Archer's lower torso, and Ben-Ari vaporized into history.
Again, Trane had no time but to bid a silent farewell.
"I'm out of ordnance," Duncan said over the commline.
"And me," echoed Bovos.
"It's over. Let's make a run at 'em and do what we can with our lasers," said Hawkes.
"Captain Trane, look!" Jon Blix had a tone of awe in his voice.
Trane looked to the north. It was a single 'Mech. There was no mistaking its configuration. There was only one 'Mech whose round cockpit windshield made it look like a one-eyed metal man—the Cyclopsl It was a 90-ton behemoth whose advanced communications and information network made it a natural battlefield command center. But a command center for whom? Trane wondered.
The Cyclops did not move. Slowly, one at a time, more 'Mechs came into view. The Reapers' barrage began to slacken as they caught sight of the newcomers. Trane could recognize the shape of the 'Mechs—an Anvil, a Tempest, a Cerberus, and a Grand Titan—all heavy and assault 'Mechs, and they kept coming.
"I don't remember the Republican Guards having that much heavy hardware, do you, Hawkes?"
"Negative—unless they're a part of those last companies Amaris said were scheduled to return."
Another massive 'Mech strode forward of the new 'Mechs still assembling to the north of the Demons and Crimson Reapers. At 200 meters the sun glittered off its silver and red armor. The awesome machine continued to move steadily toward the battlefield. At a hundred meters a symbol on its chest armor became visible.
"It's the Knights, the Knights of the Inner Sphere!" Trane yelled exultantly over the commline. There was no mistaking that 95-ton battle monster. It was an Albatross, one of several new designs exclusively assigned to the elite Knights.
For the next two hours they watched as the Knights' fury swept over not only the Crimson Reapers but every Republican Guard company in the field, all the way back to the encampment area near the Cavern of the Skull. It was the kind of battle not seen in the Periphery for many centuries. Duncan listened as Trane made contact with the Knights commander in the Cyclops. The man's orders were to leave no survivors among those who'd impersonated the Knights.
The few times Duncan had met Thomas Marik he had seemed benevolent, reflective, perhaps even fatherly. And he'd heard the elder Kalma describe him often enough as everything from a statesman to a philosopher. Now Duncan knew something else about the Captain-General of the Free Worlds League. His enemies no doubt underestimated him. Few would guess how ruthlessly Thomas Marik could order their destruction.
* * *
Trane stood watching as Garth Hawkes helped Duncan down the last few mounting rungs on his 'Mech. The Knights were mopping up all across the plain, and the sounds of distant explosions told him the fighting in the Republican Guard encampment area below the Cavern of the Skulls was winding down.
"Captain Trane."
Trane turned around to see a Knight approaching him. "I am Trane."
"A message from the Captain-General, sir."
"Yes?"
"I quote, sir. 'Well done. Well done.' "
Turning back around to face the others, Trane suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. "Where's Dawn?"
"I didn't see her 'Mech go down," Hawkes said. "Last I remember she said something about destroying the blood of Amaris. I didn't know what she was talking about at the time, but I'll bet she's headed over to the Cavern."
"Let's get going. She's still a Demon until this thing is over," said Duncan. As he turned to climb up the side of his Atlas once more, he saw Trane already scaling the rungs of the Warhammer to its cockpit.
32
Cavern of the Skull
New St. Andrews, The Periphery
Rimward of the Circinus Federation
13 July 3057
Trane pushed the Warhammer up to its maximum speed. The old 'Mech had taken some heavy damage during the games on Galatea, but the power plant was holding up well. It was making almost 60 kph. Dawn's Orion, from Jaggoda's shipment of 'Mechs, probably couldn't reach anywhere near that speed, not having benefitted from all the refits Trane and his Knights had made to their machines while she and the other Demons were down on Kyeinnisan. The problem was, Trane wasn't sure how much of a head start Dawn had on him in her race to Amaris's headquarters in the Cavern of the Skull. A bolt of energy from a large pulse laser suddenly shot across bis path. Checking his tactical screen he saw that it came from an Anvil, one of the new, heavy 'Mechs that had arrived for service with the Knights just before this mission had begun. It took him a second to recall the pilot's name.
"Lieutenant Zinsky, this is Captain Trane. Why the hell are you shooting at me?" Trane could see other 'Mechs here and there on the plain leading to the foothills of the mountain containing the Cavern. Zinsky was probably checking for survivors of the battle that had just taken place out here.
"Sorry, Captain. I didn't stop to ID you. Guess I was spooked. An old Orion just shot past here, ignoring my challenge. I assumed you were with it."
"I am. Pass the word that some of our battlegroup is on the field. Three more will probably show up in a matter of minutes. Make damn sure who you're shooting at, Lieutenant. How long ago did that Orion come through here?"
"Couldn't be more than ten minutes, Captain. It was slow, but my lasers virtually bounced off all that armor."
"Where was it headed? I can't see it on my screen."
"There's a trail in the foothills dead ahead of you. It leads up to a cave in that mountain, from what I've heard."
"Stay here, Zinsky, and let the rest of my group know I'm headed up there when they show up."
"Aye, Captain, will do. And Captain, be careful. One of our recon 'Mechs reported that it's a hell of a place to try to fight in."
"Understood." Trane saw the trail into the hills becoming visible ahead of him, but not Dawn's 'Mech. The high rocky outcrops plus the metallurgic content of the hills were probably creating a communications and sensor blackout. This so-called Star Lord had chosen his command center well. Without a highly accurate topographic map of those hills, it would be suicide for attacking 'Mechs to use jump jets in here. No telling where a 'Mech might land. But neither he nor Dawn had jump-jet capability, so that was not an option in finding her. If the Star Lord had his headquarters deep in the mountain, even aerospace bombardment would have a hard time rooting him out. And all manner of defenses, including 'Mechs, could be hidden along the trail leading up to the Cavern.
The trail was so narrow in places that the high stone walls almost grazed the Warhammer's shoulders at times. Recklessly, Trane plunged up the slope trying to close the distance between himself and Dawn so he could communicate via radio.
Then, just ahead, he saw the Orion. "Dawn, this is Trane; Do you read?"
"I hope you have not come to try and stop me, Rod Trane." Her transmission crackled and popped on a few words, but it was getting clearer.
"I probably should, but I think I know what you're up to. Hold up and wait for me. This trail could become our grave if we're not careful."
It took only another minute or so for him to catch up to her. The trail widened some
and he could see a short, level stretch ahead. Still, there were so many huge outcrops of rocks lining the trail, and any of them could conceal a 'Mech waiting to ambush them.
"I read 'Mechs ahead," he heard Dawn say, the excitement coming through even over the commline.
"This trail is probably crawling with them, Dawn. Let's get the hell out of here!" Backing a 'Mech down a narrow mountain trail wasn't easy under the best of conditions. These were not the best of conditions. To his left, Trane saw a Wasp and a Javelin, both light 'Mechs, using their jump jets to leap to the top of the gullies that had been hiding them.
"Black Warriors!" Dawn shouted.
The Javelin targeted him, triggering a salvo of SRMs from one of its six racks. Two flew past, missing Trane completely. Probably a miracle, under the circumstances. A third slammed into the Warhammer's left arm, and the damage display immediately told him it was out of action for now. Trane tried to lock onto the Javelin with his PPC, but he wasn't able to hit.
While the Wasp's medium laser was cutting gashes in the Orion's left arm, Dawn managed to get her right-arm laser lined up, scoring multiple hits to the light 'Mech's vulnerable torso. It exploded, pieces of the 'Mech showering like confetti down onto the trail. The Javelin meanwhile had landed and begun advancing on Dawn. Her lowered 'Mech made a nice, compact target.
Dawn suddenly made a break for it. "I claim the right to Amaris. He is mine."
"Dawn, abort. They've got this trail covered on all sides. Hold back, I say!"
"Neg. The time is now." As Dawn bolted the Orion forward, a wall of fire suddenly rained down on her. Dozens of missile explosions, the azure bursts of PPC fire, and the stabbing and probing red and green beams of laser light showered down as she rushed ahead. In horror Trane saw her pivot mid-stride and fire, catching the Republican Guard Javelin in the leg, nearly severing the limb from its hip as her own 'Mech was bathed in exploding autocannon rounds from a Rifleman on the opposite ridge. Trane tried to scan her Orion, but in the seemingly endless wall of death and destruction, his contact with her was intermittent at best.
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