He turned his Awesome around and began to head toward the distant glow of Shervanis. All the way back he fought in his imagination a glorious one-on-one battle against Marcus GioAvanti—blow by blow, and as always, the victory went to Cameron St. Jamais.
30
Badlands, Shaharazad Desert
Astrokaszy
The Periphery
1 July 3058
Charlene's sensors screamed for attention, piercing tones that warned of inbound missiles. A second later a flight of long-range missiles slammed into a nearby standing column of striated sandstone. Large shards of the pink-and-yellow-streaked rock rained down around her Phoenix Hawk, clattering off the cockpit and upper torso. Twisting the upper half of her 'Mech back along the missile's flight path, she dropped her cross hairs over the distant image of a target her computer tagged as an Assassin BattleMech, then cut loose with the emerald beam of her large laser. Her targeting systems registered the shot as a glancing blow off the Assassin's right arm, and then the raider 'Mech dropped from sight among the jagged hills and standing columns of rock that surrounded them.
They're pressing again. Trying to drive us into the open desert. The heat level in the cockpit spiked briefly as the Hawk's heat sinks tried to cope with the desert heat and the large laser output, but the automatic increase to flow to her cooling vest adjusted for it well enough. If things get heavy, though, we're going to bake.
After the order went out for the Angels to flee into the desert, she had paired off with Chris Jenkins—the MAF officer piloting the Vulcan. They'd passed into the badlands and then skirted the edge of the open desert, heading west and pausing only for a few hours' rest that first night. Thinking themselves safe, they'd stopped early the night before and slept in turns: two shifts of three hours each.
And early this morning a medium lance of raider BattleMechs had run across them.
Chris' Vulcan led the flight through the steep, winding canyons, sharp-edged hills, and standing columns of rock that butted up against the Shaharazad. The badland. Though both their 'Mechs were jump-capable, they kept to the ground to save reaction mass and in hopes of losing their pursuers. The Phoenix Hawk brought up the rear because it packed the bigger long-range punch.
Charlene maneuvered around a large outcropping of orange sandstone and stepped up her speed as she and Chris entered a small straight-away. We've got to lose them. Within the first hour of flight this morning, the sensors in Chris' Vulcan had picked up another pair of 'Mechs pacing them from the desert. The same readings had popped up several times since, usually to the south as they edged closer to the desert but occasionally more to the front. They weren't more of the Angels; at least, no answer had come in response to their comm signals. If these are more raiders trying to set up for an ambush, we'll have to hit them hard and get past them before the rest can catch up.
The Hawk's computer suddenly painted two targets on the HUD: the Assassin, joined by a Vindicator. Another flight of LRMs streaked toward the back of the Phoenix Hawk, followed almost immediately by a stream of blue-white energy as the Vindicator fired its PPC. Charlene had already turned the Hawk, preferring to take the damage against her right flank than against the weaker rear armor. The five LRMs peppered her 'Mech's right leg, gouging small craters in the armor. The PPC missed high, exploding the top of a nearby standing column of stone. Counting herself fortunate, Charlene fired off a single return shot from her large laser and then slipped around the next turn even before her computer could register whether or not she'd hit.
A shallow valley spread out before her, widening as it opened out toward the other end, where Chris Jenkins' Vulcan stood. Several small hills of broken rock dotted the valley floor. The wind swept fine sand across the ground like a pale, swirling mist breaking against the hills and the legs of the other BattleMech. Beyond the Vulcan, Charlene could see the dunes that marked the beginning of open desert.
"Hawk One, we have a problem." Chris' voice sounded weary as it came over the commune, even through the electronic filtering.
"Head north, Ensign. We'll go deeper into the badlands."
The Vulcan began to reposition until it faced the approaching Phoenix Hawk. "Not a good idea, Hawk. There's desert to the north. We'll be running out onto a spur, with nothing but sand and space on three sides. We'd be looking at five to ten klicks of open desert until we could get back to badlands."
Charlene slammed her palm angrily against the arm of her command couch. Damn. "Got any good news?"
"My flamer still works."
And there it was. Take their chances in the desert or stand and fight here, where they could still expect to find some cover. Chris voted to fight here, where his 'Mech could come in close and use its fusion-powered flame weapon to drive up their opponents' heat. Charlene had to admit she was tired of running. She dropped the arm of the Lynx, which she still carried from that on-the-spot salvage two days prior. "We hit them as they come around that last comer," she said, "then jump for that small hill to the left. With luck, we get off two salvos before they can respond."
Here's where I atone for bringing down the Angels, she thought, training all her weapons on the entrance to the valley. She would sell herself as dearly as she could, buying Chris Jenkins an opportunity to escape just as she would any Angel. Just as Brent did for me.
The Vindicator was unlucky enough to be the first 'Mech to round the outcropping of rock that guarded the valley entrance. The Phoenix Hawk's emerald beam slammed into it, followed by a flurry of ruby darts as both 'Mechs unleashed their medium lasers. Unprepared, the raider 'Mech rocked backward as it lost over a ton and a half of armor from its front side. It fell from their line of sight, back behind the outcropping from which it had come.
That puts it out for a moment, Charlene thought, already skimming the Hawk toward the small hill she'd pointed out before, and readying her weapons for another strike at the Assassin. The heat in her cockpit was riding high after that initial exchange, and sweat streamed down her face and gathered on her exposed arms. No matter. Unless they could bring down the raiders fast, they'd be in trouble.
But the Assassin did not round the bend as she'd expected. Riding in on its own jump jets, the 40-ton 'Mech coasted over the low rise on Charlene's left to threaten their flank. At almost the same time, a Hermes II and a Centurion stepped out into the valley mouth.
All older designs, Charlene recognized, thanking the raiders for the small favor. She cut loose with two of her medium lasers only, giving her heat buildup time to dissipate to reasonable levels. By chance she happened to fire at the same raider that Chris did, both of them scoring against the Centurion. Then Chris stepped his Vulcan out from protective cover and ran toward the Assassin, drawing its fire and leaving Charlene in her protected position to hold the entrance.
Sitting behind partial cover, forcing the other two raiders to come at her across basically flat ground, Charlene held a slight advantage that she put to good use. The autocannons mounted by the Centurion tore large chunks out of the hillside in front of her. Only one of the depleted-uranium slugs made it past from the Centurion, but it shattered nearly a ton of armor from her center torso. The laser fire was slightly more intense, carving another ton from her right torso and savaging her right arm until she began to fear for her large laser. Then the Vindicator reentered the battle, and one blast of man-made lightning from its PPC flayed off every last ounce of armor from her left arm, laying it open to the titanium-steel skeleton.
With a quick turn and two long strides, Charlene brought the Phoenix Hawk fully behind the hill. That bought her a few seconds at best, and in the time she had, she took quick stock of Chris' fight. The Vulcan and Assassin were engaged in a close-quarters dance at the wider end of the valley—the Assassin leery of Chris' flamer and Chris just as worried over the other's SRM system and medium laser. Come on, Charlie, use your head. You're not tired of living yet.
Then, just as the raider Assassin had before, two new 'Mechs sailed over the
valley's lip on jets of superheated plasma. Their low-altitude jumps kept them hidden until the last possible moment when they were suddenly clear of the rim and dropping back to the ground. They landed behind Charlene, leaving her bracketed between the three raiders. A Shadow Hawk and an Enforcer, both raising arm-mounted weapons in her direction. Charlene brought up her Phoenix Hawk's right arm, struggling to get a lock, but knowing she would never make it in time. Both 'Mechs fired in a release of energy and autocannon rounds that Charlene knew would scour her Hawk clean of armor in the best case, and would more likely leave her piloting forty-five tons of scrap.
Except both of the new BattleMechs missed her altogether.
It only took a second for Charlene to finally order the scene in her mind, though it seemed like several long minutes. These new 'Mechs did not bear the Marian Hegemony's dark knight insignia. They both had the slapdash look of machines repaired in the field with armor plates scavenged from other 'Mechs and applied in patchwork design. The Shadow Hawk's AC/5 looked as if it had been ruined long ago and never repaired.
These weren't raiders, Charlene realized, but members of the nomadic warrior tribes that inhabited Astrokaszy's deserts! And despite Jericho Ryan's warnings about the nomads' tendency to prey on any who where not of their own tribe, they were attacking the raiders and that made them allies. Even if only temporarily.
As the nomads broke off, one to either side, Charlene stepped her Hawk out from behind the hill and found the Vindicator rounding it from the other side. Too late for you, she thought, thumbing the master triggers on both control sticks. Her large laser speared the raider in the left torso, while a medium laser and machine gun on each arm dug further into the armor along the BattleMech's entire front. Its return PPC shot boiled away most of the armor on her right leg, and Charlene knew a moment of fear before the Enforcer spat out a one hundred millimeter slug of depleted uranium that also smashed into and through the Vindicator's left torso.
A cloud of debris seemed to blow out the back of the raider 'Mech as it pitched forward violently in a spinning fall. Ammo explosion, Charlene thought. Its LRM magazine ruptured. The 'Mech's CASE system had channeled all that potentially destructive energy out specially designed blow-out panels in the back of the 'Mech, but such concentrated force was still more than the pilot could handle and the 45-ton machine plowed into the ground, left shoulder first. Before it could try to rise again, the Enforcer pumped two more slugs into its back, both penetrating the weaker back armor and smashing into the gyro housing.
He knew the best place to hit it for a quick disable. Charlene turned her weapons toward the Assassin, ready to assist Chris and glad the nomads weren't firing at her. Yet.
But just as quickly as the nomadic warriors had arrived, the Assassin decided that it had had enough and suddenly rose into the air on twin columns of plasma, quickly disappearing over the valley rim. Charlene knew that chasing the smaller 'Mech would do no good. With its top speed of over 110 kilometers per hour, she could never catch it. What didn't make sense was its sudden departure. Even at three to four odds, the raiders had superior weapons and armor, and once they'd gotten around that hill and into a slugging match there was little doubt they would have won. Almost as if—
She broke off from her train of thought as new contacts appeared on her head's-up display. Almost as if they'd seen something she hadn't. Two more BattleMechs ran into the valley from the open desert. They were lights, a Panther and a Stinger. Easing back on the foot pedals, Charlene throttled down until the Hawk came alongside Chris' Vulcan. The new 'Mechs were of the same general condition as the first two, with the patched-over armor and lack of any identifying marks. Awaiting their approach, she checked the Hawk's damage display for armor and weapons availability, and discovered that her armor was basically nonexistent.
Two-to-one odds again. At least with the raiders, I knew where I stood.
31
'Mech Staging Area
City of Rashier, Rashier Caliphate,
Astrokaszy
The Periphery
3 July 3058
Marcus grimaced as the Heaven Sent barely cleared the high walls around the city of Rashier and hovered awkwardly over the cleared landing area near the hangar. It was obviously showing the effects of the damage it had taken.
As the craft slowly settled down toward the hard-packed ground, Marcus squinted against the cloud of dust thrown up by the blast of the fusion drive, taking note of the severe armor damage and the gaping hole blown in the aft-port side. Several raider 'Mechs had concentrated fire there, weakening the number-two landing gear, gutting the aft-port weapons platform, penetrating the fighter bay, and finally damaging the fusion plant at the heart of the DropShip. He couldn't see how Captain Clifford Mattila had managed to take off, much less move the DropShip a good five hundred kilometers along the edge of the desert.
The screech of bent hydraulic components and metal under stress set Marcus' teeth on edge. For a moment he thought the number-two gear would collapse. The stress-bearing joint buckled visibly under its share of almost four thousand tons, but held. Then the wash of fusion-warmed air subsided as the drives cycled down from a roar to a low rumble and finally silence.
Caliph Rashier, who'd been watching the event from a slightly safer distance, now moved forward. His retinue of guards enveloped Marcus, then moved on past him to form a protective circle in which the two men could talk. Rashier seemed almost too security-conscious, but Marcus knew the caliph also spent a great deal of time away from the safety of his own palace as he actively participated in preparing for war against Shervanis.
"A fine display of skill, Commander. Seeing your ship like this, I would not have thought it capable of take-off."
The damage to the Heaven Sent hurt Marcus almost physically. Not that he cared more for it than the lives of his people, but this ship was their only way off planet. "I'm sure Captain Mattila will be happy to hear that," Marcus said dryly. He watched as the ramp extended down from the lower 'Mech bay, and Ki-Lynn jumped up onto it and entered the ship. "He always claims the ability to do the impossible." We'll fix it, he promised. The Angels, whatever was left of them, would not be stranded on Astrokaszy.
If the caliph noticed the sarcasm, it was ignored. "You requested an interview, Commander. Is there something I can do for you?"
"Actually, I wanted to present you with a more physical token of my appreciation, Caliph Rashier." The words were spoken through clenched teeth, but amiably enough. He watched as Ki-Lynn appeared at the head of the ramp again and waved two hovercraft from the bay. Painted a desert camouflage of tan and yellow, the vehicles rode on a cushion of air with large fans at their rear for propulsion. They weren't armed with much more than a medium laser apiece, but they were damned fast.
"Savannah Master hovercraft," Marcus told Rashier. "They can fly across semi-level ground at better than two hundred klicks per hour, perfect for desert warfare. Lightly armored, but the idea is for them not to be there when the enemy starts shooting back."
The caliph seemed suitably impressed, eyes wide with greed as he studied every aspect of the hover vehicles driving past him toward the hangar. Once they were out of sight, he carefully blanked his face of emotion and returned his attention to Marcus. "A wonderful gift, Commander. But perhaps a bit too much for what I have done for you."
And you want to know what I'd like to buy with them. I have to admit, Caliph, your system cuts out a lot of the politics. "Well, there is something else, if the Caliph could spare the resources." Marcus waited for Rashier's nod. "I would like to contact the desert warrior tribes. Try to locate some of my people and see if any of them would join us against Shervanis."
"Desert trash," Rashier said, a sneer twisting his face. "We are better off without them."
The sudden anger in the caliph's voice gave Marcus pause to think. Tried to recruit them before, Rashier? "They have BattleMechs. Perhaps not as well-kept as yours, but I've heard that some of the larger tribes hav
e just as many."
"I have five 'Mechs, all in good condition, fully armed and armored. You have as many, and are pledged to assist me against Shervanis."
"And we could destroy Shervanis if all he had were his two lances of older machines. But that isn't so. He has nearly a full battalion of newer BattleMechs with weapons that could destroy us at ranges your 'Mechs cannot reach."
The caliph seemed reluctant to consider that argument. "The desert warriors pilot garbage that would not last a minute against Shervanis' minions." His tone suggested that the argument was closed.
Marcus wasn't about to give up. "That's a minute that Shervanis and the raiders will not be shooting at us, Highness. Surely you can see their use as a diversion, if nothing else." He thought he saw a gleam come to Rashier's dark eyes and pressed the advantage. "And besides, seeking their aid is only secondary. I wish to locate my warriors, and the desert nomads may know something of their whereabouts. What if the Angels weren't destroyed? If I could raise another lance of them, we would stand a far better chance." A strengthened company versus a battalion. I must be crazy. He changed his mind. No, Rashier is crazy and I am desperate.
"I would have thought, Commander, that your ship could have been used to contact your warriors if any survived." The caliph's expression was hooded again, and he watched Marcus carefully.
"Normally it could. But when the raiders took the Head of a Pin they must have found our logs for frequencies and codes. What channels aren't being jammed they're using to try and contact the Angels and lure them into traps." Marcus nodded toward Ki-Lynn, who was descending the ramp with Clifford Mattila, the Heaven Sent's captain. "Fortunately Ki-Lynn had started to routinely change all codes between battles, and when Charlie called a Lucifer Code, the battle codes were then considered void. Contact has to be made through other means now."
Double-Blind Page 23