D. R. T.

by James D. Long

  The look-alike Rifleman had cleared the trees and was firing on Rose again. One Gauss shell ricocheted off his right torso, furrowing, but not breaching, the armor. The second shot passed over Rose's head by less than a meter, but a miss was all that mattered.

  Rose dropped his right arm and locked onto his target Without thinking, he held his breath and double-checked the lock, centering the cross hairs on the damaged left torso of the Clan 'Mech. Releasing half his breath, Rose fired the right-arm PPCs. True to his aim, the twin bolts passed through the breach in the damaged left torso and gutted the insides. The shot burned away the remaining internal structure and set off a series of small fires. With a snap that was audible two hundred meters away, Rose saw the Clan 'Mech's left arm drop away.

  Over-balanced by the loss of its arm, the 'Mech tottered to the right and slammed into a small cluster of trees. Shredding limbs and bark, the enemy 'Mech tried to stand but could not do so. The remaining arm was nothing more than a rifle mounted on the shoulder. With neither elbow nor hand, the 'Mech couldn't acquire the leverage to stand in the loose soil. As Rose approached, the pilot stopped struggling and tried to bring the remaining weapon in line. Rose circled wide and was soon out of range.

  He glanced at the scanner and saw that the remaining two Clan 'Mechs were on the run. He pointed his right arm at the cockpit of the fallen Clan 'Mech and the struggling ceased. Rose stood immobile as the rest of the command lance centered around him.

  "Report," he ordered, more coldly than he'd intended.

  "Command Four. I traded shots with something. I don't know what it was. Neither of us got a hit, however, because of the intervening trees. It blasted off and landed on the far ridge." That would be the second fleeing 'Mech, thought Rose. It must have decided to get out when the other two went down.

  "Command Three, no contact."

  "Command Two. I got a passing shot at something, but I don't know if I hit. The 'Mech landed in the trees and kept moving away." That would be the first 'Mech, Rose said to himself. Fear is still the better part of valor, I guess. The pilot must have decided to make a break for it rather than damage me from the rear.

  "I don't recognize either of these two designs," said Rose, pointing to the two 'Mechs at his feet. "Did you get recordings of the designs you spotted?" There were affirmatives all around, and Rose was heartened by the news. Tangling with new BattleMech designs was extremely dangerous, and the more information a warrior had about the opposition, the more likely he would survive the first few encounters. His battie with the Rifleman look-alike was also recorded.

  "All right, people, let's move out." Rose switched to longrange scanning and checked for the other two lances. "Any contact with Battle or Recon?" he asked.

  "Nothing since the landing," said Riannon. "Both of them should have an approximate idea of where we are, so it shouldn't take too long to link up."

  Rose nodded but wasn't convinced. They were a long way from their intended landing zone and separated by heavy woods. If either of the other lances had dropped into a hot zone, well, Rose didn't want to think about that.

  "Riannon, give us a fix on the last known position of Battle Lance. Command Four, lead the way. We'll link up with the closest unit first, then try to hook up with Recon."

  "We could wait here," said Riannon. "Let them find us instead of blindly trying to run into each other."

  "No chance, Command Two. That first 'Mech might have been on the move back to base before I finished off the other two. If that's the case, you can be sure there will be company heading our way immediately, if not sooner. We stay here and we're going to find ourselves surrounded."

  "What about this guy?" asked Bell, indicating the fallen but not destroyed BattleMech at Rose's feet. Rose considered the options, then turned on the Masakari's public address system.

  "Ten, nine, eight, seven," he began. He moved the Masakari next to the fallen BattleMech's head and dropped the right arm to the cockpit.

  "Six, five, four, three," he continued. A hatch suddenly opened in the BattleMech's head and out popped the pilot. Diving into the dirt, he just managed to roll clear of the 'Mech as Rose reached count zero. Rose stabbed the PPC trigger once and destroyed the cockpit. Without a second thought for the Clan pilot, he turned and followed Jamshid through the woods.

  21

  Courcheval

  Nova Cat Occupation Zone

  28 July 3057

  Star Colonel Denard Devereaux sat motionless at his desk and stared toward the far wall. Two pilots from the Fourteenth Garrison Cluster stood before him. Like their commander, they had remained immobile for the last thirty-seven minutes. Unlike their commander, they were standing at full attention.

  The first pilot was a male whose close-cropped red hair was already beginning to recede, despite his youth. Though the other members of his star tolerated him, none would have called him friend. By Clan standards he was a capable gunner and an above-average pilot, but that was all. He lacked the drive and the ability to achieve his proper place in Clan society, and that failure placed a stigma on him. He was a Mech Warrior, but he would remain a second-class pilot and a suspect ally.

  The second pilot was female. Her blonde hair was also short, but the cut seemed to add character to her face, giving it a vitality the other pilot's would never have. Like her counterpart, she was a capable gunner and an above-average pilot who had occasionally shown flashes of brilliance. She had the right to dream of more than simple garrison duty. If she survived, this warrior could one day pilot one of the OmniMechs of Clan Nova Cat.'

  Denard still did not move. The strain had long since become apparent on the face of the male warrior. Denard was certain that the female was equally tired, but she did not show it in any of the ways most people would have perceived. That is good, thought Denard.

  The two pilots before him were the only survivors of the morning's brief combat. What had started as a simple training exercise, had become a deadly engagement when the training star had stumbled upon an Inner Sphere raiding party. Denard had known the raiders were in the system, but it hardly seemed worth the effort chasing down a single enemy DropShip. After all, how many 'Mechs could it hold? Barely two stars' worth. Better to let it land and hone the skills of his warriors. It was a good plan, but poor execution had cost him three BattleMechs.

  From the corner of his eye, Denard saw the male flinch. Though the movement was barely perceptible beneath the man's combat suit, Denard caught it easily enough. That young warrior's fate was decided.

  Denard raised his hands from his lap and placed them palm-down on the desk before him.

  "You may relax." Neither MechWarrior moved. "I have several questions about this morning's events that I would like to have clarified." With deliberate slowness, Denard spread his fingers wide. He looked at the male.

  "You broke off the engagement." Denard's voice was silky-smooth and very, very low. "By whose command?" he asked.

  The man licked his lips and kept his eyes forward. "No command was given," he replied in a shaky voice. Denard remained silent for several moments, and the man's nerve broke. He gulped audibly before adding, "Star Commander Ortin was dead."

  Denard turned to the woman. "You did not engage the enemy. By whose command?"

  "Star Commander Ortin," she replied simply. Denard remained silent, but she refused to elaborate on the point. She was obviously very confident.

  "Describe to me, in your own words, what happened this morning, and please do not merely repeat what was in your report." Denard paused before continuing, his voice dripping menace. "I have already memorized that trash."

  "We were deployed in a standard crescent," she began. "I was on the north point. We detected the drop pods and moved to intercept the last cluster. Star Commander Ortin believed that it had to be their command unit.

  "As we approached, the Star Commander discovered that the raiders possessed two OmniMechs, a Masakari and a Mad Cat. He ordered me to return to base with that informati
on."

  Denard nodded and stood up. Moving with deliberate slowness, he came around the desk and stood before the woman. She was nearly six feet tall, but being an Elemental, Denard towered over her. She stared at his sternum until he hunched over to eye level.

  "Tell me why you believe Star Commander Ortin ordered you to flee combat." The warrior's eyes flared briefly, but she quickly regained control. Excellent, thought Ortin. She is furious at the thought of being called a coward, but she still does her duty.

  "We were over-matched in weight and firepower," she said. "Knowing we would lose. Star Commander Ortin sought to buy time so our intelligence could be returned to base. OmniMechs in the hands of Inner Sphere raiders is a serious matter."

  Denard stood and began pacing the room. Soon he was behind the two pilots. They could not see him, but his heavy boots and deliberate stride made it patently obvious where he was at every moment. After three tours of the office, Denard walked to the door and flung it open.

  "Star Captain Thrace," he bellowed. "My office." Without closing the door, he returned to his desk and sat down. A second Elemental rushed into the room. The female equivalent of her commander, Thrace was a mass of well-proportioned muscle backed by agility and the skill to put that mass to good advantage. Despite the somber air in the room, Thrace was smiling.

  "Yes, Star Colonel?" she asked. Denard found it hard not to smile back at his assistant, but succeeded in maintaining his calm. He started to speak and looked at the female MechWarrior.

  "What is your name, MechWarrior?" he asked.

  "Ailbrenn, Star Colonel."

  "Star Captain Thrace, former MechWarrior Ailbrenn is now acting Star Commander of Pursuit Claw, Trinary Growler. She will need replacements to fill several spots recentiy vacated by combat losses."

  "Very good, Star Colonel," responded Thrace.

  "Take our new Star Commander over to the tactical center for a briefing on the massacre this morning, then get back here. We have things to discuss."

  "Aff, Star Colonel." Without another word, the two women left the room, Thrace pulling the door shut behind her. When his assistant returned ten minutes later, Denard was still where she'd left him, but the other pilot was nowhere to be seen.

  "Did you eat him?" she asked, only partially in jest. Denard snorted and rose from the desk.

  "It wasn't necessary," he replied with a slow shake of his head. "The fool practically choked himself to death in front of me."

  "Batchall, quiaff?"

  "Aff. He expects to die in combat, and I will not disappoint him." Denard indicated an empty chair, the only piece of furniture in the room beside the Star Colonel's own chair and desk, then reached into a desk drawer. Thrace sat down, stress-testing the chair as Denard pulled out a chip and slipped it into the computer. After pressing several keys in silence, he pushed the monitor toward his assistant and leaned back. She read the text swiftly, then glanced at Denard.

  "Could this be more than it seems?" she asked slowly. Denard frowned. It was not a question he expected from her. Indeed, he had not expected her to question him at all.

  "It is not likely," he said. "Whoever these raiders are, I cannot believe they are anything more than what they seem on the surface. Mere Inner Sphere scum."

  "With at least two OmniMechs," she reminded him.

  Denard paused, then nodded once in silent acceptance of the facts. "What is the current tactical situation?" There was no doubt in Denard's mind that his assistant would have been given a full briefing on the current status of the raiders while she was had been at the cluster's tactical center.

  "All their 'Mechs have reached the ground. Only one unit was engaged upon landing, but another was pursued for several kilometers before making an escape." Denard reached for the computer as she spoke. "Composition estimates?" he asked without looking up.

  "A heavy company. The engaged unit was probably their command lance ..."

  "How do you know that?" he interrupted.

  "The engaged units were the last four 'Mechs to release from the damaged DropShip. Intelligence reports indicate that Inner Sphere units always drop the command lance last in order to coordinate the drop. The exact opposite of the way it should be done, of course. The Timber Wolf was the last pod ejected. If the hypothesis is true, it is piloted by their company commander.

  "Perhaps a worthy opponent, quiaff?" smiled Denard. Thrace looked at her commander. The reflected light of the computer monitor bathed his face with harsh shadows, casting a deathly pale green over his features.

  "Perhaps," she agreed warily. She continued to study her commander, who was lost in thought before the computer. Star Colonel Denard was something of a legend among the giant Elementals.

  Like many before him, he had won a bloodname and the right to fight in the front lines of the Clan advance into the Inner Sphere. First as a Star Commander, then as a Star Captain, he had always been at the head of forces participating in the thickest part of the fighting. Losses were heavy, but new warriors were eager to fight under the leadership of this legend-in-the-making. Thrace had been assigned to Denard's point while he was still a Star Captain, then become his assistant following the battle of Luthien. Through setback and victory the two had fought, side by side. Then came Tukayyid and the success that ruined the warrior she once knew.

  Without proper logistic support, the Nova Cats had been routed off the planet by Com Guards in less than a week. First at Joje and Tost, then at Losije. Although the Nova Cats had enjoyed some initial successes, the Com Guard counterattacks had completely destroyed the Cats' positions. It was the Nova Cat Clan's worst defeat and their lowest moment. Only the failure of the Jade Falcons two days later and the exploits of Denard had made the shame bearable.

  Harassing the enemy in a series of bold maneuvers, Denard's star of Elementals had kept up the pressure on the Com Guard forces throughout the engagement. Popular accounts said Denard had lived in his armor for that whole week, and Thrace knew it wasn't far from the truth, for she had rarely left his side. In the end, however, it did not matter. The Clan was defeated, and Denard was lifted off the planet with the final star of defenders.

  Desperate for a hero, the Nova Cat Khans had decided Denard was their man. Tales of his exploits and his prowess grew and multiplied until even Thrace was hard-pressed to say where truth left off and the fiction began. Ultimately it did not matter. Clan Nova Cat had a new hero, and their faith in themselves was repaired, at least in part, by the exploits of that hero. Then came the promotion.

  It was delivered without ceremony. Star Captain Denard was now Star Colonel Denard, newly appointed commander of an entire cluster. But when Thrace heard that the command was of a second-line garrison cluster instead of a full blown combat cluster, she thought the news would kill him. Star Colonel was as high as Denard had ever wanted to rise. To him it was the ultimate command position, yet now that he had it, he would be forced to watch the fighting from the back lines.

  Thrace looked for any signs of aging in Denard's profile. Certainly there were lines and scars. Every commander revealed the weight of command in the depth of his wrinkles. Denard was no exception; but as with most males, the lines added character to his face and empowered it. His dark eyes were still as clear as the day she'd first met him, and if either his numerous injuries or his age had taken any of his speed and agility, he more than made up for it in wisdom and experience. None of the Elementals in the cluster could defeat him, and Thrace doubted there were any in the entire galaxy who could last in a Circle of Equals with him. With the new command, however, all that ability was wasted. For more than a year Thrace had been watching Denard die a bit each day as he pined for the chance to get back into the fight. She was tempted to pity him, but fought against it. He deserved more than her pity.

  Denard looked up from the monitor, silently prodding her to continue. If there was a prolonged silence, he did not seem to notice it.

  "Estimated ground strength is one company," she continued. "Tha
t is twelve of their 'Mechs. Given current information and estimates, we project four assault, four heavy, and four medium or light. Of those twelve, two are known OmniMechs—the Timber Wolf and Warhawk of the command group. The rest are unknown."

  Thrace looked over the computer and saw that Denard had linked into the main tactical system of the cluster. As she spoke, he had been making notes with the light pen on the raiders' known locations. He continued to stare at the computer while speaking to her.

  "They should link up about here." Denard drew a circle on the map and increased the magnification. The map grew in clarity until a ten-by-ten-kilometer section was displayed on the screen. Thrace knew that the computers in the tactical center would have given them better resolution, as well as three-dimensional holovision, but she didn't suggest that to Denard. He was working on an agenda of his own; she could tell it by the fire in his eyes. When he was ready, he would brief the rest of the cluster, but for now it was their secret.

  "Send Trinary Fang to this area. Use Trinary Growler and Binary Pouncer to herd them into the area." Denard turned from the screen. "Then crush them. We have no need for prisoners. If we can salvage the OmniMechs, so much the better, but it is not necessary, quiaff?"'

  "Aff. What of the DropShip?"

  Denard slammed his knuckles down on the desk with enough force to bounce the computer. "Those fools of the Forty-sixth. Cavaliers? Ha!" He rapped the desk a second time, and Thrace began to fear for the computer's components. The screen flickered slightly but remained active.

  "Luckily, they only damaged the DropShip." Denard grabbed the light pen and moved it across the map, indicating a point in the center of the continent's northern plains. "The captain managed to set the ship down in good shape right about here."

  "And the kill belongs to the Cavaliers, quiaff?"

  "Neg," Denard bellowed. "None of the aerospace fighters survived the attack. I have claimed the ship, as it landed of its own will."