"This is Major Jaffray. Enemy infantry in the headquarters!" he transmitted while watching the fireball rise up into the trees, burning the overhanging branches. The massive blasts had taken out three small trucks and the main communications van. The huge van was gutted in the middle as if a giant creature had taken a bite out of it. Flames and smoke rose from the massive rip and the light from the fires showed a number of big shapes on the ground. The tree branches over the van crackled as the fireball rose.
A message flashed across his primary monitor warning of possible gyro imbalance if he proceeded with a hot start-up of the 'Mech. Loren cleared the error message and pulled all his heat sinks on line at the same time. Ignoring the audible warnings that blared inside his neurohelmet, he ran a short-range scan and saw that the area around him was alive with targets. Slightly larger than humanoid and metallic. Slowly at first, then somewhat faster, he moved the Gallowglas forward to the communications van. He was in mid-stride when the mobile HQ van erupted in a deadly blast of explosives. The fireball from the explosion lit up the night and rose upward like a death plume.
MacLeod! Damn! The concussion of the explosion buffeted Loren's 'Mech and he fought a spinning sensation in his head to keep the 'Mech upright. Pieces of the van danced off the legs of the Gallowglas as he lurched it to a standing posture. Loren switched on his heads up display and began a sweep of the area. Suddenly in front of him he saw one of the large figures turn and face him. Power armor! The attackers were wearing the Inner Sphere equivalent of the Clan's Elemental suits. Infiltrator suits, that's what the inner Sphere Warriors called them. Though carrying less firepower and lacking some of the internal defense capabilities of Clan models, the suits were very deadly at close range. Loren's targeting sights had just lined up with the armored trooper when suddenly the infantryman fired his jump jets and streaked straight at Loren's cockpit.
Unable to get a weapons lock, Jaffray twisted the Gallowglas slightly, unsure of how to deal with the new threat. He'd only read about these infantry; Capellan military training did not include power armor or Elemental combat. As the trooper rose in front of him, Loren switched to his weapons joystick and swung an arm at his attacker. The back side of the 'Mech's massive hand struck the armored infantryman in mid-air, sending him flying madly into the trees. The impact barely slowed the momentum of the arm in its sweep.
Across the clearing, under the light of the destroyed field headquarters vehicles, Loren saw three of the power armored infantry fire their twin short-range missiles in unison at a Phoenix Hawk as its pilot tried to coax the machine to life. The missiles streaked upward and slammed into the chest and head of the Hawk, sending the 'Mech staggering backward from the damage. Flames licked across its torso. A cockpit hit was bad enough, but the pilot had been attempting to power up at the time and the impacts had thrown off his or her balance. The Phoenix Hawk lost its fight for survival and staggered backward into the treeline, shattering several trees as it fell.
Without thinking of the damage he was about to unleash, Loren targeted one of the power armored troopers with his sights and triggered the primary target interlock circuit on his weapons joystick. The Gallowglas fired both its medium pulse lasers in a torrent at the lone human target. A 'Mech's weapons were designed to take on other BattleMechs or fortified positions. Even with the protection of power armor, there was no chance of survival for a lone individual. The trooper twisted under the barrage and seemed to melt into the ground under the withering hail of death and destruction. Loren was so shocked by the image that he barely noticed the quaking explosions from where the Phoenix Hawk had fallen.
A short-range missile raced over the debris of the communications van and slammed into the Gallowglas's right torso. Loren felt the 'Mech vibrate under the impact as he tried in vain to target his attacker. In the distance he saw the darkened outline of an axe-wielding Scarabus stagger to life against the power-suited troopers. Its medium and small lasers scarred the night as the 'Mech ran off after a squad of the power infantry, mowing one of the them down as the rest scattered in jump flight. Loren's attention was shattered as several grenade launchers opened fire on his cockpit from the trees nearby. They're playing for keeps—and so am I.
His short-range sensor displays told him that a total of four troopers were firing at him from the trees. Their shots ate at his armor, but what concerned him more was the way they were slowly tracking their shots at the cockpit head of the Gallowglas. Loren locked on to the closest pair and fired his medium pulse lasers again. The barrage of red laser bursts tore through the dense leaves and into the trees. Several larger limbs exploded as the hot lasers made them erupt like volcanoes. One of the troopers dropped, either hit or having lost balance. The others continued to fire at Loren with renewed vigor. A rain of machine gun shells danced off his viewport, making him jerk back reflexively.
There was a flash of light from above and Loren saw one of the massive power armored troopers jumping down onto his 'Mech from above and behind. It landed on his forward left shoulder and dug into the 'Mech's head with its massive, claw-like hand. For the first time in a long time Loren felt a wave of panic overtake him. He'd faced death so many times and been trained to ignore the fear, but suddenly, here in this Northwind forest, he thought he might die. Images of what Mulvaney must have faced during her encounter with the armored Clan Elementals rose in his mind. He would not die, not this way, not now.
The problem was that the infiltrator was out of reach. Loren's 'Mech arms and hands were unable to reach the trooper as it meticulously began to rip its way into his cockpit. Loren tried to twist to make the trooper lose his balance, but the infantryman was secure in his position. Time was running out and Loren's mind raced to find a way to remove the infiltrator before his comrades also leaped into the battle.
Just past the infiltrator was the massive shoulder armor extension of the Gallowglas. Acting more on instinct than logic Loren quickly raised the 'Mech's right arm. The shoulder plate extension dropped down and slammed into the trooper from behind. If not for his power suit, the trooper would have been crushed. As it was, the impact knocked him from the "neck" of the Gallowglas and then to the 'Mech's massive chest and then down to the ground. Loren scanned to fire, but the wily trooper had managed to escape before he could track him. Next time I'll show him what the bottom of a 'Mech's foot looks like.
Loren thought of charging the Gallowglas into the rest of the power armored troops hidden among the trees. He envisioned swatting and pulling them out of the treetops, but a check of his short-range scanner told him it would be a death trap. Trying to maneuver among those huge old trees would destroy his mobility and he would quickly be swarmed by the infiltrator suits nearby.
There was another way. More brutal, but more effective.
Loren targeted one of the infiltrators just preparing to jump, then triggered a volley from his Tiegart Magnum PPC. The weapon let go its deadly blue bolt of charged energy, which shot into the trees like a wide swath of bright lightning. The shot was off by at least a meter from being a direct hit, but was close enough to destroy the trooper. A secondary arc from the charged particle stream sliced into the infantryman, setting off his ammunition in a series of explosions. Loren ignored the fallen form as it jerked under the blasts like the body of a newly beheaded chicken.
He swept the Gallowglas's targeting sight to the left as two other infiltrators jumped into flight, back and away from Loren. Firing his Sunglow large lasers, he saw one shot go wide. The other, however, seemed to nick one of the troopers in mid-flight. A wave of heat rose into the cockpit and the automatic cooling fans kicked in, pulling the hot air out, but Loren ignored their wailing. The heat severed the trooper's leg at the hip and sent him spinning wildly toward the ground. The other dropped quickly into the distant treeline and disappeared into the night.
Then it was over.
Much as it had begun, the attack ended in a blanket of deadly silence. Loren switched to a long-range scan and surveye
d what was left of the regimental headquarters. All five of the primary command and control vehicles that were the heart and soul of the regimental HQ were in flames. Infantry were trying to put out the fires, but it was too late. Survivors were huddled near several of the larger trees. From what Loren saw, there was little or no chance of survival for those who might still be trapped in the vans. In the distance the entire regiment seemed to come to life. There was weapons fire coming from the woods nearby as MacLeod's Regiment tried to stop the power-armored raiders, but it was a futile effort. The damage had been done.
"Command Staff, this is Command One. Fall in on my signal," came a voice Loren was relieved to hear. That of Colonel William MacLeod. Loren locked onto the signal of the transmitting BattleMech nearly a kilometer away from the burning HQ and began to move toward the position of the Highlander commander.
* * *
Two platoons of Highlander infantry and several assault BattleMechs ringed the ruins of the command post as Colonel MacLeod and his remaining command staff officers toured. The cool dawn was still pitch black except for the bright spotlights of the security 'Mech aimed in and around the destroyed vehicles. It was almost an hour since the attack, and though the fires were out, most of the Highlanders were shocked that their foe had attacked their command post, achieving almost total surprise.
MacLeod stopped at the remains of the regimental command van and stroked his beard as he stared at it. "Thank the stars I wasn't able to sleep, or they would've gotten me too."
"Our losses were remarkably low," Major Huff reported. "We have twenty-six wounded and twelve dead. Four of our 'Mechs sustained some critical damage, but the other eight suffered only minor damage. From what Dumfries' intelligence boys have been able to verify, nine enemy troops were killed. My guess is that they must've been gunning for you all along in this operation, sir." Huff had been sleeping in a tent a mere twenty meters from the van when it blew up. His short-cropped blond hair was singed and his eyebrows were burned off. He was lucky to be alive.
Loren shook his head. "I don't think the Colonel was their main target. This looks more like an attempt to cut off our communications and command control capability. From the looks of it, I'd say it was pretty damn successful."
"What's the word on Lieutenant Gomez, Major?" MacLeod asked, still staring at the rubble of his command.
Huff looked down. "Pretty iffy, sir. Our medics say she might lose the leg." Loren had heard that Gomez was one of the handful who'd survived the explosion in the van.
"She's tough as nails. She'll pull through this. Her grandmother was one hell of a MechWarrior and went through a lot worse. It's in her blood to survive."
"Knowing her, she'll be demanding a place in the line even before the painkillers wear off," Huff said.
Colonel MacLeod turned to the small cadre of officers standing around him. "Enough of this little tour. Who hit us and how in the name of the Star League did they get past our security?"
Huff motioned to what Loren thought was a mound of debris from the blast. In the stark glare of the spotlights the image was more shadow than substance. As the entire officer party moved closer he saw the remains of one of the power-suited troopers who'd attacked the post. It was one of those he'd killed with his medium pulse lasers. The armored suit was charred nearly black, with several gaping holes that had totally penetrated the suit. An arm, manipulative claw and all, lay severed next to the victim.
"Captain Dumfries checked out the bodies. They're apparently all part of the First NAIS Training Cadre. From what we can tell from the analysis of their suits, the suits are made of materials that don't show up on active or passive scanners until they are right on top of you. They simply walked into our camp right under our noses."
MacLeod did not lift his eyes from the dead trooper. "Well, it looks like it's finally begun. I was hoping for a more up-front fight, but it's a start at least."
"I'm surprised that Major Mulvaney had anything to do with this kind of attack," one of the support officers said. "This kind of sneaky operation brings her no honor. It's not the way we Highlanders do things." We. Highlanders. Loren could almost see the bond as if it were something tangible or physical that he could touch. Even when on opposite sides of a fight the bond between them is there.
MacLeod's face seemed to snap to a dark expression of anger. "Chastity Mulvaney would never have anything to do with an assassination attempt. This wasn't a strike against me. This was a perfectly legitimate military action, a midnight raid against regimental communications and command, plain and simple. Quit trying to read more into this than there is. This is a military operation, and as much as we want to paint it one way or another, we got beat this time. Remember, she's one of us. Blood of our blood. Highlander kin."
"It could have been worse, sir," Huff said. "According to what I've heard, these NAIS cadres are pretty green."
"Don't get your ego all ready for a field promotion, Major. It's time to update your thinking. These 'green' troops penetrated our security net and knocked out our communications back to Tara or to any vessels in orbit. We're blind and deaf except for the immediate vicinity—for now. And, according to the last reports, we were investigating a possible attack force at a jump point. This strike was simply phase one. The real heavies are sure to come for us pretty damn soon."
Huff looked down. "Understood, sir."
"What about Stirling's Fusiliers?" cut in Captain Fitzwalther. "They're due in-system in a few weeks."
"Yes, but this little raid means we can't tell them what's going on. Cat Stirling is a pretty smart cookie, though. If she plays this by the book she'll take our lack of communications as a warning that not all is calm and peaceful here. That will give her a heads-up, but not much more."
MacLeod's voice took on a deeper, graver tone. "What worries me most is that we don't know what the Davions are up to. Without our long-range communication and planetary satellite-feed relays we won't know when they arrive, where, or how many of them are coming at us."
"Recommendations, sir?" Huff asked.
"We still have battalion-level communications gear. This strike has cut us off until we deploy relays back to Tara. I want you to detail some troops, break out the gear, and have Third Battalion's Signal Platoon start getting us back in contact with the city. It's going to take a few days before we're back up and running, but this is only a temporary setback. What I'm worried about is what they'll be doing while we're blinded. We may be looking at a whole new conflict."
"So what's next, sir? Do we just throw in the towel?" Huff's question was sarcastic at best, just enough to pass MacLeod's scrutiny.
But the words only made the commanding officer of the Northwind Highlanders smile broadly. "Surrender? The Highlanders? Never. Let me answer you with a question. If you were Catelli and had just coordinated an attack designed to cripple our logistics and command control capabilities, what would be the last thing you'd expect us to do?"
There was a long pause, and then it was Loren who broke the silence. "After the damage we just took the last thing anyone would expect is for us to launch some sort of an attack."
"Precisely," MacLeod said and began to outline his operation in the humid near-darkness of the morning under the searchlights of the flanking BattleMechs.
22
Tilman River Valley Northwind
Draconis March, Federated Commonwealth
29 September 3057
"What were the results of the attack, sir? Do we have any news from Winchester?" Chastity Mulvaney asked.
"According to her preliminary report, the Highlanders' mobile HQ and comm vehicles have been taken permanently out of action," Marshal Bradford told her. "She also reports the Highlanders suffered heavy losses in the raid. Thus far everything is going as I planned." Marshal Bradford's voice was calm despite the implications of what he was saying.
Mulvaney looked out over the river, and felt her heart sink. She couldn't help but feel responsible for those deaths, directl
y or indirectly. Hadn't she been the one whose information had made the raid possible? Those people were her friends. Have I made the right choice? God, I hope the Colonel's all right. Surprisingly she found herself hoping that Loren Jaffray had also managed to survive the attack.
Marshal Bradford smiled thinly and gave Catelli a knowing glance across the small table. "I know what you must be feeling, Colonel Mulvaney."
"Do you, sir?" she said.
"Yes, you're feeling guilty for helping plan a raid on your former comrades. That's a tough one. But you can't give in to those feelings. This is a military operation. The raid was a legitimate military strike. If we hadn't gotten the information from you, we'd have gotten it from someone else. The end result would have been the same."
"That doesn't mean I have to like it," she snapped back.
"I don't want you to be confused on this matter, Colonel Mulvaney. You work for the Federated Commonwealth. There is no room for divided loyalties. You had better get your priorities straight here and now. Your former CO is directly and blatandy defying orders from his superior officer and his liege lord. We are on a mission to cripple and disable MacLeod's Regiment, period."
"I'm more than aware of my priorities," she said coldly.
"As a subordinate officer you had better learn to curb your tongue, Mulvaney. I'm not a Highlander officer and I will be addressed according to my rank and position. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. I understand, Marshal," Mulvaney said, regaining her composure. "I am in favor of crippling MacLeod's ability to fight, but I do not approve of assassination attempts on him or his command staff. Such actions will only solidify the resistance of his troops and produce even greater bloodshed for both sides."
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