Heir to the Dragon

by Robert N. Charrette

  "Sama," Olivares objected. "Fourth Skye is heavies. We can't beat 'em in a stand-up fight. When their aerospace is done with our air, they'll be crawling all over us."

  "Then we must move quickly," Theodore said. "Second and Third Battalions form in skirmish line on Tai-i Tetsuhara's position. First Battalion stays in reserve to cover the infantry's withdrawal."

  Theodore heard the grumble from Olivares, but the man stifled his usual disagreement. Olivares' battalion had the heaviest BattleMechs in the Eleventh Legion. The machines were too slow to participate in Theodore's scheme.

  "Warriors, we have a battle." Theodore pressed down on the "Revenant's" accelerator pedal, and the machine started forward. The 'Mech's mighty legs pistoned, driving it quickly to top speed. Fiber optic commlines stretched taut and snapped as the seventy-five-ton machine rushed forward. The regimental commanders' protests and objections were abruptly cut off, leaving Theodore with only the sounds of his own breathing and the thousand noises of a BattleMech at high speed.

  Motion on the 360-degree screen told Theodore that 'Mechs were moving out of the Legion's prepared positions. In moments, the lighter, faster 'Mechs were pacing the "Revenant's" ungainly run. One Locust strutted out ahead, its pilot booming out an unauthorized "Banzai!" over his external speakers.

  As the "Revenant" swept past Tai-i Tetsuhara's position, Theodore informed the young officer of the battle plan. Relying on him to coordinate his own company, Theodore led his battalions down the slope into the teeth of the Fourth Skye Rangers.

  Missiles roared from the "Revenant's" shoulder-mounted Kali-Yama launcher, exhaust smoke arcing toward the advancing Steiner machines. Autocannon fire joined in, though the ranges were still too great for most of the weapons to lock onto their targets.

  The Lyran Mech Warriors seemed surprised by the sudden appearance of the Legion 'Mechs. Most of the Steiner pilots hesitated, or continued trying to hit the sniping 'Mechs of Tetsuhara's recon company, which continued to harass the Lyran left flank. A few returned fire, but it was futile against the fast-moving Kuritans.

  As Theodore led his forces toward the Lyrans' right, maintaining speed and distance, the enemy finally began to react, turning their attention to the charging Vegans. As the volume of fire increased, Theodore watched one Kurita Panther take a particle-beam hit in the cockpit. Before the blue lightning of the charged particles ceased dancing among the ruins of the 'Mech's superstructure, a second beam tore into the Panther's torso. Frozen in a running stance, the Panther toppled forward to slam into the ground. Enraged by the loss of their comrade, the Panther pilot's lancemates concentrated their weapons on the killer Warhammer. The seventy-ton Steiner machine lumbered into cover of a stand of brella trees rather than face the wrathful Kuritans' fire.

  The "Revenant" shuddered as several long-range missiles struck. The status board pinpointed the strike locations, but showed that the explosive warheads had failed to penetrate the 'Mech's multilayered armor. It was going to take more than a few missiles to stop an Orion.

  Soft earth geysered in Theodore's path. Armor vaporized and flowed away in silvery streams as Steiner energy weapons struck the "Revenant." The status board showed more colors as the computer painted in the hit locations, but the penetration warning alarm remained silent.

  Theodore's companions were in worse shape. In the growing deluge of fire, the BattleMechs nearest Theodore were taking more than their share. Already, a Jenner had gone down, fit only for the scrap heap. Most of the others showed one or more gaping holes in their armor, leaving internal structural elements and myomer pseudo-muscles exposed.

  Olivares was right about the Legion's 'Mechs being unable to stand up to the Rangers. Speed was not enough protection on the sparsely wooded, rolling ground of the valley floor.

  A fusillade of dozens of missiles engulfed a Cicada pacing on Theodore's left. The bird-like 'Mech crashed to the ground, one leg completely torn away. Before the pockmarked hulk struck down, scintillating energy beams laced a deadly pattern around a Vulcan fifty meters behind the "Revenant." The Vulcan staggered for an instant, then its faceplate blew away as the pilot rocketed out in his ejection seat. The pilotless 'Mech started to topple backward, its torso exploding outward as its ammunition detonated.

  Suddenly the pattern was clear. The Lyrans had identified Theodore's BattleMech, and they were trying to strip away the troops nearest him.

  "Olivares!" Theodore called over the comm. "You get those people into the woods yet?"

  "Almost, Sama." Olivares' reply was swift. "Got a problem with Thirty-fourth Infantry. They won't leave Massingham. Sho-sa Willis says he won't lead his men out to be slaughtered in the open."

  No, Theodore thought, he'd rather be slaughtered with walls around him. "Leave them then. They've made their choice. Take First Battalion into DonnerBrau. Hold at the edge. We may need your covering fire."

  "Hai, Sama!"

  Theodore ordered Second Battalion to fall back on its original position while Third Battalion provided cover. His force lost two more 'Mechs before Second signaled they were ready to go. Theodore flashed an order to Tetsuhara's company to pull back to the north before taking to the woods and cutting away from the melee with the Rangers.

  Slower than most of the Kurita 'Mechs engaged in the battle, Theodore's Orion needed every layer and plate of its heavy armor to survive the run. He was the last of the Legion to reach Second Battalion's line. Third Battalion, now taking their turn to withdraw, passed his position as he turned the "Revenant" to face the slowly advancing Rangers. Third Battalion continued on toward DonnerBrau Forest, screened by Second Battalion's battle line.

  The Lyrans were unhurried, secure in their victory with the Kuritans on the run before them. The Rangers performed a deliberate and orderly advance, steadily covering the ground between them and their opponents.

  Just before the Steiner 'Mechs closed to effective range for their medium weapons, Theodore ordered a full retreat to DonnerBrau Forest. All the Kurita 'Mechs abandoned their positions and fled. For the second time, the Lyrans were caught off-guard; their advance faltered.

  As Theodore brought the heated "Revenant" into the shadow of the giant brella trees, he halted and turned to survey the oncoming Rangers. The Kuritans had outdistanced their enemies, reaching safety under the deep blue canopy. It seemed now that the Lyrans had finally thrown caution to the winds. Their lighter 'Mechs, freed from their reserve positions by the Steiner commander, were crossing the open ground. The Rangers' rigid formations were breaking up as the Mech Warriors gave themselves over to the pursuit of a broken enemy.

  It worked, Theodore thought, gazing out at the broken remains of more than a dozen Legion BattleMechs. If only the price hadn't been so high. By his rash assault and the fighting skill of the Legion, he had bought time for the conventional regiments to escape. As the Legion BattleMechs pushed deeper into the forest, his external microphones relayed the sounds.

  Now, Kommandant Heany, the hunt begins.

  * * *

  Hauptmann-Kommandant Kathleen Heany opened the hatch of her Atlas, letting the cooler outside air flood in. She hoisted herself up into the hatchway, thanking the Lord for the relief from the oppressive heat of the cockpit. The commlines trailing from her neurohelmet pressed gently against her left leg as they stretched from their connection to the command board.

  From this vantage point, she could see the last of the Kurita 'Mechs escaping toward the forest. Most had already disappeared into the blue-tinged shadows. There was no sign of the conventional troops. They had fled even before the BattleMech forces had engaged.

  When the Fourth dropped on Netaltown, they had not found the Legion. It had been an embarrassing moment for the Davion advisors attached to her unit, and a frustrating one for her troops, eager for action. The Fedrats had offered no explanation for the failure of their vaunted intelligence apparatus, prompting Heany to tell them what they could do with the contingency plans they suggested.

  She knew
that the Fourth was more than a match for a motley collection of Kurita scum. Her MechWarriors didn't need ground-pounders or turtles to accomplish the objective. They didn't need to shelter under air cover. That kind of insecurity was Fedrat style. Her Skye Islanders were real MechWarriors.

  She laughed aloud, feeling pleasure at her victory. She had been right. The Vegans were just what everyone had predicted. They had come out to meet the Fourth like some ancient samurai spoiling for a fight. What fools! Idiotic bravery was no match for a hundred tons of BattleMech.

  The Snakes had turned tail, seeking safety in the forest, as soon as the Fourth demonstrated its superiority. The forest offered them false hope, however. There would be no place to organize, no way to team up against the Fourth's heavy 'Mechs. The Rangers outmatched the Legion 'Mech to 'Mech.

  We shall hunt you down, Little Prince. We shall destroy your followers one by one until I get my hands on you. The Legion of Vega is doomed.

  Heany opened a line to her comm officer.

  "Call our Davion friends, Hauptmann. Tell them that we Skye Islanders know how to conduct an operation without their meddling advice. Tell them we'll own Theodore Kurita in a few hours."

  24

  Gether's Jewel, Marfik

  Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

  29 August 3028

  A flight of five missiles howled overhead. Colonel Randy Thompson dropped down in his commander's seat, jamming his elbow against the edge of the cupola. He yelped with pain as the hard metal slammed his bone even through the padded joint protection of his tanker uniform.

  "Move out!" he yelled into the intercom. He was rocked violently into his padded chair as the driver obeyed and sent the Rommel jouncing across the field.

  "Kelly, link me to all battalion COs. I want to know what in hell is going on."

  "Yessir!" Without looking at his commander, the CommTech busied himself with the task.

  Thunderous booms from the massive autocannons of the two other tanks in the command lance drowned out Thompson's next order. He snapped on his vision screen in time to see the second volley from his lancemates' vehicles.

  Two mid-size BattleMechs were advancing toward the lance, firing as they came. The Rommels were unable to score against the fast-moving 'Mechs. The Kuritans were firing much more effectively. Particle beams ripped at the armor of Beta vehicle until the ravening energy clawed its way through to the tank's innards. Thompson imagined he heard the crew's screams as flame gouted from the wound.

  "Forward, dammit! We've got to close with them!"

  A sickening crash punctuated his words. A glance at the screen told him that his fears were fact. A Kurita Panther had landed directly atop Gamma vehicle. The thirty-five-ton BattleMech had crushed the tank's turret.

  Thompson cursed as he watched the Panther's broad feet smash into the Rommel's upper surface. Dust raised by the 'Mech's jump jets obscured his view of the damage left by the machine's violent impact on the tank. The running 'Mechs had been a diversion to set up the Panther's "death from above" attack.

  The Panther untangled itself from the wreckage of Gamma vehicle even as the turret of Thompson's Rommel traversed to bring its main battery to bear. The BattleMech moved in swiftly, sliding past the outthrust muzzle of the Defiance autocannon. As the 'Mech's hands seized the barrel, it froze in place, the turret's motors no match for the strength of the 'Mech's myomer musculature.

  A second 'Mech, a fifty-five-ton Griffin, landed in a flare of ion flame to join the Panther. Thompson stared helplessly as they combined their strengths to tilt the Rommel on its side. The tank's right tread dug into the earth, canting the vehicle further. Thompson was thrown from his seat as the Kurita 'Mechs began to rock the tank up and down. With a final heave, they upended the Rommel.

  Seemingly content to leave the machine turtled and helpless, the two 'Mechs moved off to engage more of Thompson's regiment.

  "Sir," Kelly called, hanging suspended in his restraining straps. "Are you all right?"

  Thompson ached all over, but knew that complaints would do nothing to enhance his image as a tough tank commander. "I'm alive," he said flatly.

  "Very good, sir," Kelly acknowledged. "I have Hauptmann-Kommandant Heany on the comm for you."

  "Great." Thompson tried to switch his helmet comm to the command circuit, but all he got was a hiss of static. He ripped the faulty helmet from his head and snapped his fingers at Kelly. The CommTech nodded and handed down a headset. Thompson slid the ear piece in and opened the channel. "Thompson, Seventy-second Skye Armor, here."

  "Colonel, as soon as you have secured Gether's Jewel, I want you to move your armor through DonnerBrau Forest to map reference zulu-two-three. We have broken the Legion and chased them into the forest. I have pulled Fourth Skye back to regroup and organize a net to surround the Snakes.

  "Get your regiment in place along the ridge at zulu-two-three. I want to hammer them on the anvil of your tanks. Victory is near, Colonel. They are demoralized and disorganized."

  "Lost the Legion in the woods, did you?”

  “No need to get impertinent, Thompson," Heany retorted indignantly.

  The commline hissed with electromagnetic static as a particle beam passed near Thompson's Rommel. He heard the shattering crash of a brella tree even through the hull of his tank. He knew the sound was being picked up by the comm microphone. "What the devil is going on at your end?" Heany inquired.

  "Nothing much," Thompson replied sarcastically. "We're having a little visit from the demoralized and disorganized 'Mech force you lost. They're stomping my tanks into snail snot."

  25

  DonnerBrau Forest, Marfik

  Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

  14 September 3028

  Fuhito flipped up the visor on his neurohelmet and popped a food concentrate bar into his mouth. Yuk, he thought, when will they stop making these things out of three-day-old fish? He tried to wash the taste away with a mouthful of water, but the liquid from the 'Mech's recycling system was tepid, stale, and had a faint metallic tang. Such cuisine. Even the slop in the Legion's messhall was better.

  The messhall was history now. Two weeks ago, the Elsies had assaulted Massingham and forced the Legion away from its base. Since then, they'd been on the run, dodging Steiner aerospace while playing tag with the ground forces and living off rapidly dwindling supplies. The Legion had fought as well as it could. Even the ground-pounder regiments had held their own along the trees of the great forest. Again and again, the Kuritans had stung the Steiner invaders and then disappeared into the shadows of the brella trees.

  Despite it all, all the sacrifices, nothing had been gained and much had been lost. Half of the Eleventh's BattleMechs were crippled or destroyed. The conventional regiments had taken an even worse pounding. Only the Eleventh and Fifteenth Armored remained as fighting forces, and most of their surviving vehicles were stranded for lack of fuel, reduced to immobile pillboxes. The Steiner juggernaut rolled on.

  The Elsies were weakened, perhaps even hurt, by Tai-sa Kurita's tactics. Now the end was near. Expendables, especially ammunition, were running out, the supply insufficient to last more than a week of fighting, even at their reduced numerical strength. The men were worn down, almost spent.

  At the morning briefing, Theodore Kurita himself had been bleary-eyed and haggard with exhaustion. But the Tai-sa seemed unbroken, firm in his determination to resist the Elsies to the end. Just as the meeting was breaking up, word had come that the Thirty-fourth Infantry, who had remained in unmolested containment in Massingham, had surrendered to the Lyran forces. With them had gone the spaceport where the Legion's DropShips had stood—and all hope of evacuating the planet. Theodore had not wavered. "A setback," was all he said before ordering the planned hit-and-run tactics to continue. "We must defeat the Steiner forces."

  Fuhito had been impressed with Theodore's conviction, his display of the Dragon's virtue of tenacity. He found the Tai-sa's calmness and certitud
e encouraging. Though Fuhito could see no way out of the Steiner trap, he had confidence in his commander. If there was no hidden solution to be revealed when the time was right, Theodore would lead them down the path of honor to warriors' deaths. Comforted, he had led his battered company out to play their part in the Tai-sa's plan.

  Now the waiting was getting on his nerves. Fuhito was used to action, movement. He understood the necessity, but that didn't make him like ambushes. He scanned among the trees, trying to spot his own men. Their concealment was excellent. He could only find Gutherie's Locust, and he had known where to look. The reduced heat signatures of the motionless BattleMechs and the screening effect of the giant tree trunks helped protect them from IR searches. Fuhito was pleased; he might not like ambush duty, but he could set a good one. A yellow flag flashed among the sparse undergrowth, attracting Fuhito's attention.

  A soldier in the tan fatigues and padded brown battlejacket of a Kurita infantryman stepped away from the bole of a tree. He raised his left arm and pumped it up and down four times. He then held up both hands, fingers spread wide. He closed his hands into fists, then opened them again. He repeated the motion, but raised only nine fingers.

  Twice more he opened his hands, showing seven fingers each time.

  "Frak!" Fuhito cursed aloud. A full lance of four 'Mechs. If the groundpounder's estimates of tonnages were correct, nothing less than a seventy-tonner. What remained of Fuhito's recon company was outclassed. Their heaviest survivor was Busek's fifty-five-ton Griffin.