Heir to the Dragon

by Robert N. Charrette

  The guards returned to lead the conscripts to the shacks where they would spend the night. As the group left the gate, Fuhito looked back to see the men on duty at the gate take the leutnant's suggestion. En masse, the guards left their post and headed for the main barracks. Fuhito wondered if the Steiner MechWarriors were equally lax.

  When they reached the shacks, the Lyrans separated their charges into groups and assigned them to huts. When only one group remained, the officer dismissed his men, urging them to warm up on some schnapps for him. The last group was almost completely composed of Combine soldiers, and Fuhito felt a sense of impending danger as the leutnant stood by the door, flashing a light into each person's face as he or she passed into the dimly lit interior of the hut.

  "Oh, ho," the soldier exclaimed as he pulled one of the hunched figures from the line. He tugged the poncho's rainhood down, exposing the woman's head. Fuhito held his breath when he saw that it was Tomoe Sakade.

  "Very nice. Maybe I was a bit hasty in deciding who I would spend the night with. There are quite a few privileges for those who are friendly," the leutnant told her, slipping a hand under her poncho.

  In the faint gleam from the open door, Fuhito saw the Lyran's eyes go wide. He surmised that what the leutnant found in his groping for soft flesh was the hard metal of Tomoe's subgun instead. The man took a step back, but not fast enough to escape Tomoe's flashing hand. Her stiffened fingers drove into the man's throat. He collapsed with a broken trachea, choking on his own blood.

  All the Kuritans froze, waiting to see if they were discovered. There was no sign that anyone had heard. The rest of their guards continued noisily toward the barracks. On the far side of the camp, a lone guard 'Mech prowled, its searchlight gleaming as it swept the perimeter.

  "No more time to lose," Tomoe announced. "Kerai! Tetsuhara! Get your team together. You two, drag this garbage into the hut. Let's move!"

  The Kuritans tossed off their ponchos. Fuhito counted heads, and found that some of his team had already been herded into the shacks. Quickly, he gathered them, twenty soldiers and twice that number of brave locals eager to do their bit for the Dragon. At the head of his thirty raiders, he headed for the Lyran barracks. Tomoe and Ninyu had already vanished into the night, gone to their own tasks.

  Fuhito dispersed his men to cover all sides of the building, careful to assure that they were not visible should some Lyran glance out a window. He found himself a good vantage point overlooking the main avenue of the camp and waited.

  Ten minutes later, twin explosions announced the success of Tomoe's team as the Strikers succumbed to limpet mines.

  First of the Steiner troops out of the barracks were the negligent gate guards. Fuhito straightened from his crouch and fired his KA-23, cutting them down before they had gone twenty meters. Around him, spurts of flame appeared as his squad opened up. Bullets pocked the surface of the building, seeking and finding flesh whenever Lyrans attempted to leave the barracks.

  Short-spaced crashes filled the air, the massive footsteps of the approaching Steiner guard 'Mech. The beat of those footsteps slowed as the machine neared the barracks court. Then it appeared from around the corner, striding slowly forward as the flames from the burning Strikers underlit the twelve-meter 'Mech, giving it the aspect of a hellish demon. Fuhito recognized the machine as a thirty-five ton Fire-starter, a dangerous anti-personnel BattleMech. The light 'Mech stalked across the court, searching. Its head-mounted searchlight probed the shadows. One of the recruits panicked, dropping his weapon and running away from the Fire-starter. The 'Mech's torso swiveled to face the man, and heavy slugs from the torso-mounted Deprus machine guns shredded him.

  Fuhito stood motionless as the Firestarter passed his position. Knowing too well that his motion might be visible on the pilot's 360-scanner, he threw a flare ahead of the machine and to its left.

  The 'Mech blasted the spot where the flare burned as soon as the magnesium ignited. After a moment, the Firestarter's guns fell silent and it stepped into the alley behind the barracks, seeking prey.

  Watching its passage, Fuhito noticed a dark lump on a radio tower near which the machine had stopped. The shape moved, resolving itself into that of a clinging man, arm poised for a throw. A sputtering object arced across the space to impact at the side of the Firestarter's head.

  The bomb burst in a shower of flames, its jellied petrochem plastering the 'Mech's head. The heat and gummy liquid blinded the Firestarter's sensors and apparently disoriented the pilot. Stumbling into a wall, the 'Mech knocked itself off-balance and fell.

  As the Firestarter struck the pavement, one of the canisters clustered around its right shoulder ruptured. The liquid inside erupted in a fiery paroxysm that engulfed the entire upper body of the 'Mech.

  Fuhito was appalled. Those canisters usually carried extra coolant, necessary to protect the machine's actuators as the fusion heat of the reactor was channeled from the engine to the arm-mounted flamers. Instead, this 'Mech had carried incendiary chemicals that it could project as a clinging mass of fire to cripple and burn any enemy, including another BattleMech. A fiery death was the deep-seated fear of every Mech Warrior, a terror born in the sweatbox cockpits where they piloted their nuclear-hearted monsters. This man had wished that death for his opponents; now he roasted in his own cockpit, a victim of his own desire.

  The loss of their giant guardian took the heart out of the remaining Lyran troops, who were waving a white rag from a door.

  Fuhito left acceptance of their surrender to his sergeant. He stood watching the conflagration of the Firestarter, thinking dark thoughts, when Ninyu materialized out of the darkness behind him.

  "Well timed, Tetsuhara-kun. You suckered him into position like it was some parade-ground exercise. It's almost as much your kill as mine."

  Fuhito turned to him, feeling heat that did not come from the burning 'Mech. "No MechWarrior should die that way."

  Ninyu shrugged. "He was a Lyran."

  "He was a human being. Have you no heart?"

  "My heart belongs to the Dragon. It holds no sympathy for those who stand against the Dragon." Ninyu's stare was as hard as his words. "Let's go. The hovercraft have arrived. All hands are needed at the warehouses."

  Fuhito followed the black-clad man, mind numb.

  The following hours of labor only numbed him more. As a MechWarrior, he was able to handle one of the industrial exoskeletons, and that put him in constant demand all along the waterfront. He was too busy to think.

  Periodically throughout the day, Fuhito observed as Tomoe fielded supply requests from Steiner units, assuring anxious officers that their requisitions were being processed and that supplies were on their way. In point of fact, the Kuritans were taking those supplies for themselves.

  The volume of Lyran demands indicated that Theodore's attacks were well underway. Combine forces were striking all along the front, hitting them hard and diverting attention from Cochus. As the day wore on, the Kuritan supply-raiders worked harder. They pushed themselves beyond fatigue, unsure of how much time they had. Every case of supplies would be vital to the continued resistance on Vega.

  The cargo ships that had followed the hovercraft finished loading at dusk, the hovercraft themselves held in reserve for the expected arrival of Steiner troops. Fuhito had a few moments' rest as the last ship wallowed from the pier and before the first hovercraft could be brought in to be crammed with all it could carry.

  It was late night, with only a dozen hovercraft left to load, when the scouts reported a detachment of Lyran tanks and infantry carriers headed for Cochus. Some Steiner officer had finally decided to look into why his supplies had never shown up.

  Tomoe supervised the last, rushed loading, ordering Fuhito aboard with his exoskeleton before she took her own onto a hovercraft. Turbines whined to full power, lifting the craft for their run out of the bay and down the coast to Nevcason. The Combine raiders had nearly stripped the supply camp.

  The flotilla was nea
ring the headland of the bay when a lance of Scorpions arrived on the beach. As the light tanks halted and fired a few rounds at the rapidly vanishing hovercraft, Fuhito found the strength to raise the exoskeleton claw and wave goodbye.

  31

  Edge of the Sea of Tears, South Nantuo, Vega

  Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

  30 October 3028

  The Dervish loomed out of the blowing sand. Ruby death pulsed from its blocky forearms and 60mm demons screamed from its bloated chest. The thunder of its steps was lost in the howling wind that seemed to carry half of the Sea of Tears through the sky.

  Half-blinded and choking on the dust, Leutnant-Colonel Brian Kincaid stumbled out of the path of the behemoth just barely before one of the 'Mech's massive feet demolished the work shack he had just left.

  Trying to shield his face with one hand, he wrestled his sand goggles into place with the other. Eyes still stinging and watering from the abuse, Kincaid was able to discern a wall of the hut still standing, its door slamming violently in the wind. He fought his way to the lee side and grabbed one of the filter masks still hanging undisturbed on the remains of the wall.

  He was trying to remember the layout of the base, but without much success. The airfield was already socked in when his battalion command lance had pulled in for repairs. There had been little to see in the rising storm. He knew that the shack was somewhere south of the terminal building near where he'd parked his Zeus, but the confusion of the sudden Kurita attack and the raging sandstorm had disoriented him.

  Flashing fire split the darkness that ruled the storm's depths. Tracer rounds from a heavy-caliber autocannon sought out a target, finding the terminal buildings. Vitryl and masonry exploded free to be taken up by the roaring gale.

  The originator of the barrage, a Combine JagerMech, appeared briefly through the swirling sand. Kincaid watched helplessly as a pair of Steiner ground troopers struggled to bring their missile launcher to bear on the 'Mech, only to be vaporized under a pair of coherent light pulses from the machine's lasers.

  The storm's whimsy shielded the Kuritan, cloaking the JagerMech more effectively than it did the four or five other shadowy shapes that clumped past the ruins of the shack where Kincaid crouched, hugging the still-standing wall, knowing the crumbling masonry was no protection against the enemy BattleMechs. Kincaid cursed his helplessness. He was in command of two-thirds of the Third Lyran Guards BattleMech regiment, as well as half a dozen conventional regiments, but he was separated from his Zeus and out of communication with his command. Carrying only his M & G service automatic, there was nothing he could do to stop the rampaging Kuritans.

  The wind began to drop suddenly, heralding the passage of the storm's eye over the base. Visibility improved, but in every direction, the horizon remained invisible behind walls of airborne sand. Thick clouds still boiled overhead. In the gray twilight, Kincaid could see the appalling destruction the Snakes had already wreaked in their sudden raid.

  Caught by surprise, the Lyran vehicles and 'Mechs had been destroyed where they stood. Barracks and service buildings were a shambles, many completely flattened. His back to the sheltering wall, Kincaid looked across the field at the Combine attackers.

  Two lances of Kurita 'Mechs stood scattered about the tarmac. Sand-crusted lubricant fluid oozed from their joints and dripped sizzling to the paved surface. Their weapons were mostly silent, pilots venting heat to bring the machines' temperatures down to safer levels, but machine guns and the occasional autocannon cut down any Steiner troops gutsy enough to face the marauders.

  A shrill hooting emanated from a sand-colored Panther whose chest was emblazoned with a kabuto-helmeted feline. Kincaid recognized the grouping of the sounds as a battle code, a rally cry. Answering hoots came from the northeast. Kincaid looked over the upper edge of his wall in time to see another lance of Combine 'Mechs crash through the hangar area, destroying those buildings as thoroughly as a man scuffing through a child's cardboard castle.

  The four joined the other Combine machines already gathered on the runway. The 'Mechs sorted themselves out into a loose wedge, the Panther at the head. The 'Mechs on the left flank swiveled their torsos to the left while those on the right twisted right. Gathering speed, the hulking machines began to pound along the runway.

  Energy lanced out from laser crystals and PPCs while deep-throated autocannon vied noisily with the shrill whine of machine guns as the 'Mechs raced along. Their targets, Lyran AeroSpace Fighters grounded by the weather and tarped-over for protection from the sand, erupted in flames. The oily black smoke that rose from their blasted remains was shredded and dispersed by the winds still raging high above the base. The Combine BattleMechs continued on when they reached the end of the runway, weapons silent now. The 'Mechs were shadows in the sand, becoming progressively more obscure until they disappeared into the storm's embrace.

  Kincaid was standing alone on the runway amid the burning wrecks when the Lyran reaction force arrived.

  "Where are they, Colonel?"

  "Gone. Again."

  It would be no use to pursue them. Even during the first week of the Kuritan offensive, the damned Snakes had somehow been able to strike and vanish almost with impunity. Now, under cover of the storm, they would, be more elusive than ever.

  * * *

  The "Katana Kat's" myomer-powered fingers clung to the rockface, anchoring it in the hundred-kilometer-per-hour winds. Fuhito watched the funnel cloud whip down the wadi, sucking sand from its hard-packed bed. The dark whirlwind slid over McCoy's Cicada, knocking the long-legged 'Mech to the ground and pulling it to pieces.

  "Frak!" Fuhito swore. McCoy and his 'Mech were the third they had lost to the wild tornadoes in the two weeks since the seasonal weather front had closed in on South Nantuo. The Legion had taken fewer battle casualties while hamstringing Lyran invaders during the same period.

  The killer funnel passed on, and Fuhito and his detachment continued on their way in the diminished storm. An hour of hard travel brought them to the cliff face that sheltered the Second Legion of Vega's base camp. In the caves honeycombing the cliff, away from the sand and wind, the Legion had set up their little-used rest-and-recovery facilities. Looking forward to the quiet, Fuhito led his men through the makeshift windscreens into the relative quiet of the caverns.

  He dumped his record of the sortie over the microwave link to the unit's battle computer and eased off the heavy neurohelmet. The four-day patrol had stiffened his body, making the climb down the "Kat's" exit ladder an exercise in agony. He found Michael Heise waiting for him.

  "Good hunting, Tetsuhara-fean?"

  "Good enough, Tai-sho. The full report's in the comp," Fuhito said wearily. He ran his tongue over his gritty teeth; somehow sand had leaked into his purification system. "The weather is deadly. We lost McCoy to a funnel."

  "Unfortunate. But not unexpected for this time of year. Vega is not known for its gentle summer weather." Heise shrugged. "It's been a boon to us this year, though. The damned Lyran AeroSpace force has been grounded for two weeks. Tai-sa Kurita's strategy of mounting attacks under cover of the storms has paid off incredible dividends. Between the storms and our attacks, more than half the Lyran fighters are ruined. Which means that when the skies clear in a week or two, our air forces will be evenly matched. Then we shall have a glorious fight."

  "With all respect, Tai-sho, you sound like one of Tai-sa Kurita's inspirational speeches."

  Heise chuckled. "And why not, Tetsuhara-kun? I am inspired by him. He has turned the situation entirely around. When the weather breaks, we will destroy the Elsies."

  "We shall certainly fight them, Tai-sho," Fuhito agreed, unsettled by the unfounded optimism replacing Heise's previous unfounded gloom. "But, again with respect, destroying them is another matter."

  Undaunted, Heise waved his arm to indicate the Kurita forces gathered in the caverns. "These are inspired troops. They cannot but achieve victory. When the weather clears, we will t
ake to the wadis again, running along our secret highways to attack the Elsies where they least expect it."

  The Steiner forces had been fooled so far, but despite their reputation, they were not totally dim. They would not remain oblivious to the Combine ploy. Once the Lyrans figured out the Tai-sa's strategy, the Legion would have to face the elite Third Guards 'Mech to 'Mech. The Second and Fourteenth Legion Regiments had not had the benefit of Tai-sa Kurita's attention as had the Eleventh Vegan. Even though they probably outnumbered the Elsies, these Legionnaires were not yet ready for open battle with the Lyran veterans.

  "Soon the Lyrans will realize that we are traveling on the wadis, and our element of surprise will be lost," Fuhito said. "We will have to face them directly."

  "With Tai-sa Kurita to lead us, we shall triumph!"

  Fuhito hoped he was right.

  32

  Kerschengian Factory Complex, Cochus, Vega

  Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

  13 December 3028

  The Victor shuddered under the impact of armor-piercing shells from the Lyran Marauder's autocannon. Theodore stomped down on the throttle, running for cover behind the gutted factory building. Blue lightning from one of the Lyran's PPCs ripped the ground at the accelerating Victor's feet.

  That Lyran strike team had pierced the Legion's lines and cornered him and his command lance in the Kerschengian Factory Complex on the outskirts of Cochus. Tourneville had transmitted a warning of the Lyrans' arrival before cutting behind a row of storage tanks, leaving Theodore and Tomoe to face a quartet of Lyran heavy 'Mechs. Tomoe's outclassed Panther had been gutted in the first rush, but she had punched out as the 'Mech collapsed. He had seen her chair's parachute and assumed she had landed safely. He dared not consider any other result.