Текст книги "Shrapnel: Fragments from the Inner Sphere"
Автор книги: Elizabeth Danforth
Соавторы: William H. Keith,Ken St. Andre,Jordan K. Weisman,Michael A. Stackpole
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‘You'd be surprised...’
Tyrell had met Lord Hassid Ricol almost a year after the disaster on New Wessex. He'd been living virtually hand-to-mouth, working when he could as a bodyguard for higher-ranking nobles. Without a Mech of his own, there was little for him to do. Openings for pilots in BattleMech units were few and far tween anyway, and Salvadore did not relish the alternative of joining a line infantry unit. At least, not yet.
The casualty rates in line units were shockingly high. Though Salvadore did not fear death any more than most others of his class and training, he was not ready to die just yet.
He had an oath to fulfill.
The strange thing was that it was Duke Ricol who had sought himout. contacting Salvadore through a servant who appeared one morning at the front door of his cheap room. The man had led him to a hotel near the city's spaceport, where Salvadore found himself bowing before a massively built, bearded man in a flamboyant red and gold uniform. A native of Rodiyo. far out toward the Draconis periphery, Hassid Ricol was known far and wide as the Red Duke.
‘You've been academy-trained.’ Ricol said after Salvadore. at the Duke's invitation, had taken a seat in his presence. Salvadore wore his two ceremonial swords, the scabbards tucked into the belt of his robe. The long, curved blade was the katana;the wakizashiwas identical to the larger blade, but shorter. The blades had been awarded to him upon graduation from the Sun Zhang school.
‘That's right, your Grace. Sun Zhang, class of '18.’
Ricol nodded, stroking his beard. ‘Then you have experience with BattleMechs.’
‘Yes. your Grace.’
‘Dispossessed?’
Salvadore had tried to hide his scowl and failed ‘Yes, your Grace. My Mech and my unit, were lost on New Wessex.’
‘Tell me about It.’
For the next hour, Salvadore relived the Battle of Ouros Crossing and the events leading up to it. Ricol listened intently, gently running his hand down his beard as Salvadore described the deployment of Tyrell's Raiders and the unexpected appearance of a full Steiner regiment where only a company had been expected.
‘I heard rumors of that business,’ Ricol said at last. ‘You are the first eyewitness to corroborate the stories, however.’
‘If I may ask, Lord...what is your interest in this?’
Ricol smiled, but there was ice in the expression of his eyes. ‘Let us simply say, Chu-i,that the Draconis Combine Is locked in a death struggle that will require every tool, every weapon at our disposal.’
Salvadore nodded. It was a basic fact of life among most of the inhabitants of the Combine that life was a day-to-day struggle to survive against the enemies that encircled them—the Lyran Commonwealth and the Federated Suns, in particular. That knowledge sometimes took on the sharp edge of xenophobia, though in the Red Duke, it seemed to have been redirected into a fierce will to triumph,
‘The one thing we cannot survive,’ Ricol continued, ‘is stupidity. And of that, I fear, we have more than our fair share.’
‘Stupidity, your Grace?’
‘A good military unit is a tool to be cared for. Not to be thrown away on a whim or to win some small, personal advantage such as the acquisition of BattleMechs. Many of my peers within the Combine have an aversion to the use of mercenary units, or experienced militias, and deny themselves access to some of the finest, best-honed tools available. That is stupid as well.’
Salvadore felt a thrill of anticipation, of hope. ‘Garreth. You want to...’
‘What I want is of no concern at the moment.’ Ricol said sharply. ‘I suggest, too, that unthinking action solely for the sake of vengeance is stupid, too.’
'Perhaps, your Grace. But I have an oath to avenge my father.’
‘Vengeance.’ Ricol sighed as though he'd heard the story before. ‘You realize that a vendetta by a junior noble or officer against a senior is...ah...risky.’
‘I'm not interested in the politics of vengeance, your Grace. Just achieving it’
‘You should be. son. You should be. When you tangle with a man as powerful as Lord Garreth, politics becomes the most valuable ally you have.’ He shifted back in his chair, considering. ‘However. I can use a man with Mech training and combat experience. I believe you are that man. If you can channel your desire for revenge for a time, if you will swear your oath to me, I believe we can be of service to each other.’
What Ricol had in mind was the formation of a private BattleMech company, one reserved for his own use. Tyrell was his first recruit, the officer charged with forming and training the embryonic unit. The Red Duke, it seemed, had lost several of the Mechs in his private service in an adventure across the border in Steiner space a few years before. Ricol needed firepower to pursue his own, private ambitions, both within the Combine and beyond it.
For Salvadore, it was enough to have both a steady income and new hope ot one day having Victor Garreth within his reach.
It was nearly a year later when the Red Duke summoned him into his presence once more. Ricol had been gone from the Combine for some time, and Salvador's company, now called Tyrell's Terrors, had been employed among the worlds administered directly by the Red Duke. These included the Duke's homeworld of Rodigo and nearby Verthandi, which was still suffering from the chaos left behind by a stupid administrator and a massive, popular uprising. It had been rumored that Ricol was out of the Combine entirely for much of that time, pursuing Star League treasure in the distant realm of the Free Worlds League.
The outcome of that expedition, or even whether it was more than rumor and idle speculation, was unknown. Upon the Duke's return, Tyrell's Terrors received official orders, signed by Ricol, to meet his entourage at a certain date at the spaceport on Kajikazawa. They would provide a guard of honor to escort the Duke to his next official meeting, with the First Lord himself on Luthien.
The Duke looked older than when Salvadore had seen him last, older and more tired, but his eyes still glinted with unrealized ambitions. ‘We spoke once of oaths...and vengeance,’ he said.
‘Yes, your Grace.’
‘You have a choice before you now, Salvadore.’
The Duke's use of his first name startled the young MechWarrior. ‘Your Grace?’
The Red Duke handed Salvadore an engraved card. ‘There is a reception tonight at the Great Hall in the capital, put on by Planetary Chairman Hideie himself. We are invited, of course.’
‘Yes. your Grace.’
‘An acquaintance of yours will be there.’
Chill crept up Salvadore's spine. His mouth tightened.
‘I leave the choice with you, Salvadore. I will tell you frankly that I have worked tor some time to have...that person broken. He is loyal to the Combine, but he is loyal to himself first...and his stupidity could cost us much. Unfortunately, he has powerful friends, and I find there is no way to attack him without risking Harmony.’
The word referred to the concept that governed the relationships between the warring nobles of House Kurita. A man was expected to sacrifice all things to maintain his personal honor—all things except the greater Harmony of the First Lord's will.
‘You say I have a choice, your Grace?’
‘Yes. You have leave to seek vendetta with Lord Garreth.’
His pulse quickened. ‘Your Grace...’
‘Don't thank me.’ Ricol's face was grim. ‘It could mean your death. I value you, Salvadore. and don't relish losing you or your talents.’ He paused, considering. ‘However. I have an idea of what drives you. Perhaps you feel you will never be whole until you face Garreth and challenge him. So be it. You must seek your own destiny, and your own path.’
‘Thank you. your Grace.’
‘I release you from my service.'
Shock confused Salvadore. ‘Your Grace? I thought...’
‘In this matter, you must act on your own. As my man. you would be fighting for me. Against Garreth. you must fight with no help from me. I was able to obtain leave from a representative of the First Lord here on Kajikazawa for you to challenge Garreth. But the challenge must be between you and him. To do otherwise would involve far more than two men. It would threaten Harmony.’
‘Harmony...’
‘Don't sound so bitter, youngster. The First Lord's will holds the Combine together. It is such trifles as personal feuds among his lords that threaten to tear it down.
‘You will have the opportunity to face Garreth, to call him out before his peers. The permission for vendetta allows you to challenge him despite his higher rank. But I warn you that if you disgrace yourself, you will disgrace me. I will have to kill you myself.’
‘Understood, your Grace.’ The words were fire in his throat. ‘I will not let you down!’
Garreth stepped in. his wakizashiflashing in a flat arc that sent the tip whispering centimeters past Salvador's chest. Salvadore struck, was blocked, struck again. Garreth twisted away, breathing hard.
Salvadore was surprised at his own inner calm. He had expected to feel...what? Triumph? Fear? A savage joy in striking back at his father's murderer? Instead, he felt only a steady sense of purpose. He was surprised, too. by the hatred in Garreth's face.
‘Dog!’ the man hissed as they came together, blades locked wrist to wrist, straining. ‘You're Ricol's tool! Nothing morel’
He shoved, and Salvadore lost his footing on the slick marble floor. He fell but kept his blade high, between himself and his foe.
Rather than following his advantage, Garreth turned aside, approached one of the young nobles standing in the ring around the combatants, and pulled the mans wakizashifrom its scabbard. There was an audible gasp around the hall. It was expected that a duel would be fought with a man's own weapons. Grinning in savage anticipation of victory, Garreth advanced on Salvadore. a short sword gleaming in each hand, the points weaving in a complex pattern as he readied himself for the final strike.
Salvadore rolled as the twin blades snicked centimeters above his head. He found his feet then, brought his blade up in time to counter one overhead blow from Garreth's right-hand blade, then twisted aside to avoid Garreth's lunge with his left.
‘Salvadore!’
He twisted again and glimpsed the burly form of Duke Ricol at the edge of the crowd, reaching toward him. The blade of the Red Duke's wakizashicaught the light as Salvadore closed his hand on its grip, and drew it from the extended scabbard.
Two blades faced two blades now. Steel rang on steel, striking sparks as the fighters came together, struck, and danced apart. Both men were breathing hard but Salvadore was smiling as he sensed fear in his opponent. ‘Mercenary dog!’ Garreth screamed. ‘Mercenary bastard! You're Ricol's dog...nothing more!’
‘I have my release,’ Salvadore retorted as they parted once more. ‘For now, I am my own dog!’
‘Bah! Legalities! You do hiswork!’
Salvadore parried with his right blade, locking both of Garreth's blades for one instant. His left hand made a slashing cut that brought a spreading red stain to Garreth's long-sleeved tunic. They sprang apart, blades at the ready. Salvadore grinned and raised his right hand, holding his blade with his thumb as he wagged his fingers inan insulting ‘come here' gesture. ‘His Grace's work,’ he said, ‘is mine now, my Lord.’
Garreth lunged again, all caution lost, his blades swinging wildly. Salvadore stepped in, feeling the hot slice of pain as Garreth's left-hand blade sliced down across his shoulder, laying the flesh open to the bone.
Salvadore's right blade was already coming up, however, sacrificing the parry to Garreth's swing in order to win one, brief chance at a thrust of his own.
Garreth's face twisted in an almost comical look of utter surprise as he stood there, Salvadore's blade extending ten centimeters out from between his shoulder blades, the hilt already covered by a fountain of blood running down the weapon's shaft. There was a clatter as his two blades fell to the marble floor. Then he heaved a sigh, his knees folded, and Victor Garreth died.
Salvadore stood for a small eternity, looking at the crumpled, bloody form at his feet. He scarcely heard the shout from the nobles gathered around him. scarcely felt his own pain, or noticed the warm trickle of blood down his right arm. The emotion he had expected to feel continued to elude him. Victory was...exhausting.
But there was peace now, too. and a sense of completion. His father was avenged. And Salvadore was his own man once more.
Somehow, he found the presence and strength to turn and bow to Ukita Hideie in approved fashion, then to face the Red Duke. Dropping to one knee, he extended the borrowed wakizashihilt first.
‘Your blade, your Grace. Thank you.’
‘That is your blade, Captain. Mine is still in Garreth's chest.’
‘If you'll have it, your Grace...this is your blade as well.’
Smiling, the Red Duke took Safvadore's weapon. ‘I accept it, with thanks.’
AND THEN THERE WAS THE TIME…
–Mark O'Green
I was in my Slayeron patrol in the Galedon district—
Not another story...
‘Yeah, we'd just chased off a few of those 'Mech drivers—’
Should have taken Su-Un up on her offer...
‘They call themselves pilots—’
She said her 'Mech pilot had a friend coming...
‘But all of us real pilots think 'driver' is more appropriate—’
Just wish I'd understood sooner...
‘So there I was. cruising machity-mach across the deck—that's fast and low—’
But when she said I'd get theHunchback and she'd get theGoliath...
‘When I see this Stukain a pull-up strafing run—’
Oh, there go his hands again. Waving around. Looks like Su-Lin doing her Lovers' Goldfish story...
‘He finally spotted me, but I had his three-nine line. That's when you're behind him—’
Wonder how she's doing tonight...
‘He flipped inverted, faking that he was going back down so I'd go down and he could reverse on me. Like this—’
Oh, this is the part of the story where the goldfish start the Mating Dance...
‘But I was ready. Old Dugie told me all about Stukas.You know Ooogan? James Doogan? Wolfs Dragoons? Has his own black Stuka?’
Wolfster Goons?
‘Anyway, I kept pulling up. so when the Stukareversed, I was right there with it—’
And you opened your window, waved your hands at him, and talked at him till he fell to the ground from boredom...
‘So we got into this vertical scissors. That's where you kind of go back and forth with your canopies facing each other—’
Hands again. Let me guess, this must be Goldfish Twining in Sparkling Water...
‘I got so close to the Stukathat I could read the name stenciled on the canopy rail. Captain Karl Stephens—’
You 're not studying to be a Geisha in your off hours, are you?
‘Karl Stephens! Karl's Krusher! You believe it?—’
No, actually. Now ask me if I care...
‘So by now we're going real slow—’
So why did I think a fighter pilot would make his moves fast?
‘But I see he's just about to give up and try to escape—’
Escape. That would be nice...
‘Usually, you can't see something like that coming, but I'm pretty observant—’
Observant? You probably don't even realize this is my real hair.
‘Comes from all the preparation time—’
You want to talk preparation! Guess how long it took to get my hair to match my dress?
‘So anyway. I pull behind him. ready to shoot him down—’
Twenty more seconds and you'll see 'shot down!’
‘And Uff da!His wingman sneaks In from the side and hits me with a lucky burst—’
Utf da! That's cute. First interesting thing you've said in—what is it—two hours?
‘Dinged my engine and I start smoking pretty bad—’
Like your cigar...
‘Yeah. I still could've had Stephens, but I decided to save my Slayerinstead—’
Uh-oh, he's going to look this way. Better smile...
‘That would've been something, huh?—’
Not a bad face. Kind of like a big puppy...
‘You could be sitting here with the man who shot down Karl Stephens, ya know?-’
Maybe he'd stop talking if I did something with his hands...
‘So. Waddya think?—’
Well, something to do on a Saturday night...
–Elizabeth T. Danforth & Michael A. Stackpole
DISPATCH
Elizabeth T. Danforth & Michael A. Stackpole
TO: Colonel Josiah Kimbolton, Commander. Second Free Worlds Guards
FROM: Force Commander Simon X. Beckner, Third Battalion, Second Free Worlds Guards
SOURCE: McAffe, 13 October 3020
We're ready, sir. The Lyran mole gets word out to Snord starting tomorrow, focusing on Bright Thomlinson's missing art pieces. She’ll include some other things taken from Snord's museum in the misinformation.
Is Snord really expected to come after this rubbish Kincaid pulled together? Some of this junk has caught my eye. but a toy dog? I don t care who it used to belong to.
TO: Force Commander Simon X. Beckner, Third Battalion, Second Free Worlds Guards
FROM: Colonel Josiah Kimbolton, Commander, Second Free Worlds Guards
SOURCE: Bella I, 31 October 3028
Snord's entire company jumped 36 hours after he verified that the Kincaid collection included Frazetta’sGalleon and Whelan'sShapechanger. Be waiting for him.
I stood up for you in the dispatch to Janos Marik. This is the opportunity to prove you 're worthy of your new rank. Don’t disappoint me.
TO: Colonel Josiah Kimbolton, Commander, Second Free Worlds Guards
FROM: Force Commander Simon X. Beckner, Third Battalion, Second Free Worlds Guards
SOURCE: McAffe. 3 November 3020
Sir, this unit is a battalion. We've given them no reason to suspect there's an arm of the Second Guard here. Cranston Snord's Irregulars are lucky, but Kincaid's estate is isolated on a peninsula, and the causeway approach crosses open ground. One way in. one way out
Would Duke Marik prefer to expend an entire regiment to destroy the Irregulars? We can’t lose, sir.
TO: Force Commander Simon X. Beckner. Third Battalion. Second Free Worlds Guards
FROM: Colonel Josiah Kimbolton, Commander, Second Free Worlds Guards
SOURCE: Bella I. 7 November 3020
You said it very well. Force Commander. You cannot lose. Remember that.
TO: Colonel Josiah Kimbolton. Commander, Second Free Worlds Guards
FROM: Force Commander Simon X. Beckner. Third Battalion, Second Free Worlds Guards
SOURCE: McAffe. 10 November 3020
Sir. the Western District went off-line this morning. Techs dispatched to the power station, with cover. Therakshasa storms playing hell with instrumentation.
TO: Captain Simon X. Beckner. Third Battalion. Second Free Worlds Guards
FROM: Colonel Josiah Kimbolton. Commander, Second Free Worlds Guard
SOURCE: Bella I, 16 November 3020
Your failure is inexcusable. You are hereby relieved of duty. Report to Atreus 27 November for a board of inquiry.
TO: Colonel Josiah Kimbolton, Commander, Second Free Worlds Guards
FROM: Captain Simon X. Beckner. Third Battalion. Second Free Worlds Guards
SOURCE: En route to Atreus. 18 November 3020
Sir. I feel strongly that you've misinterpreted the Kincaid affair by characterizing it as an utter failure.
One lance covered the Techs at the West District station, though they ultimately faced no opposition. The remaining unit covered the causeway, the only rational way to come at the Kincaid estate.
The jump Mechs of Snord's company evidently walked the ocean bottom from Marggarf's Harbor to the Kincaid peninsula. Reaching the seaward shelf, they hit their jets and landed behind us. The tactic was flawless; no one deals with the slime that planet calls an ocean. Joseph Petralona's entire lance folded in the first exchange.
When the other Irregulars crawled out of the ocean, I could not countenance further losses, sir Not for that junk.
I think the exchange was a draw. Snord allowed us to come back tor the damaged 'Mechs. after all. Snord just took back what he said was his. Kincaid's collection, right down to the Eisenhower hand towels.
TO: Janos Marik, Captain-General of the Free Worlds League
FROM: Captain Cranston Snord. Commander, Cranston Snord's Irregulars
SOURCE: Clinton, 27 November 3020
Rhonda says thanks for the dog. She swears it was the King's favorite, a fourth birthday present. Glad to have it back.
Weather's here. Wish you were beautiful. Au revoir, Janos.
LEGION TEAM
–William H. Keith, Jr.
Rec Two...watch your six!’
The words brought a thrill of terror and then action. Tracy Maxwell Kent dropped her Phoenix Hawkinto a crouch from which it could momentarily take to the sky.
‘Belay that, Two!’ The voice in her helmet earphones was crisp, sharp with command. ‘Break and roll!’
She overrode the charging sequence on her 'Mech's jump jets. Rocket explosions slammed the ground at her Phoenix Hawk's feet as she threw her 'Mech forward from its crouch and into a clumsy side roll. A burst of static through her commo gear marked the passing of a high-energy particle beam a few meters overhead. Gravel skittered out from under the combat machine as she slewed it sideways part way down the slope of a landslide spill, the massive Harmon laser in the 'Mech's right hand seeking a target. Computer-generated traceries flicked across her HUD as she sought a target lock. Nothing...
‘Thanks, whoever you are,’ Tracy said quietly into the microphone set into her neurohelmet's chin guard. ‘Where are they?’
‘Up the slope from you, to your right.’ the voice said. ‘'Range one-twenty...elevation three-oh degrees. They're in the boulder field.’
As Tracy shifted her Hawk'shead, computer imagery outlined each element of the landscape as it drifted past her cockpit windshield. Upslope from her position, she could see the boulder field, an ancient tumble of glacial leavings, some the size of a small house.
There was a click in her headphones and the hiss of static as her benefactor shifted to the general command frequency. ‘Skull Leader to all Skulls,’ the voice continued over Channel One. ‘We've got bogies playing hide-and-seek at Castle Seven-Bravo. Recon Two, hold your posit. Fire Lance and the rest of Recon, move in...fast! Command, follow me. Let's move!’
Skull Leader!It was only then that Tracy realized that the voice over her headset had been that of the Old Man himself. ..Colonel Grayson Carlyle. In the sudden shock of the ambush, she hadn't recognized him. Like most of the newer members of the mercenary Gray Death Legion, she still held the unit's young commander in something close to awe.
The Colonel must have seen movement in the rocks and realized the hidden ambusher was drawing a bead on her 'Mech's lightly armored back. The enemy had been smart, triggering a salvo of missiles while laying his PPC along a line just above her head. Her first instinct would have been to cut in her jump jets, which would have sent her smack into that line of particle cannon fire. The Colonel was watching me,she thought, a little wildly. He may have just saved my life!
Where washe, anyway? She checked the tac deployment screen on her control panel and spotted the blips of green light moving over the electronic contour line map glowing on the screen. It looked as though the Colonel and his lancemates were trying to circle behind the ambushers, trying for a clear shot at them from the yet higher slopes beyond the boulders. The rest of the company was far behind, strung out along the narrow path winding down through the mountains. It would be long, long minutes before they arrived to help.
With her Mech partly sheltered by the gravel spill, Tracy cautiously levered the machine's torso higher, searching first with her own eyes through her windshield, then through the electronic senses of her 'Mech's scanners. Electronic imagery was more sensitive than Human eyes but also more easily deceived by ECM Jamming and decoys. Still...nothing...
Then something caught her eye to the left of the boulders, perhaps sunlight glancing off the beveled edge of an armor plate. The next moment, white light blossomed, scorching gray rock, and gravel erupted in front of her windshield as the PPC aimed man made lightning at her Mech's exposed head. Hot gravel rattled like shrapnel off her Phoenix Hawksarmor as she dodged and lurched backward. The loose rock under her Mech's feet and knees gave way. and she slid feet-first and belly-down, scraping down the slope in an avalanche of skittering stones and billowing dust.
The jolt of landing jarred Tracy's teeth even through the padding ot her helmet and her seal harness Damn! There goes the new paint job...
Her Mech. dubbed the Dutiful Daughter,had only recently been overhauled, refurbished, and painted in the mottled tans and yellow browns that would blend it into the desolate landscape of Shionoha. The gravel slope must have scoured the Daughterstorso down to gray metal.
She was up and moving again now, circling to the left and scrambling up the slope once more. She didn't want to reappear in the same spot. With luck, the enemy sniper would assume that he'd scored a fatal bull's eye on her Phoenix Hawkscockpit.
‘Skull Leader to Skulls,’ Grayson's voice barked. ‘They've seen us. boys! Watch it!’ Static hissed as PPC beams ionized air and deflected radio waves. The explosions nearby spoke of missiles loosed, of boulders shattered by arcing high explosives.
On her tac screen, four green blips scattered beyond the spaghetti tangle of contour lines marking the boulder field. The enemy 'Mechs were not visible, would not be visible until a friendly 'Mech got a clear fix on them and transmitted their positions over the tactical computer net. From the movements of Carlyle's 'Mech and the others, though, it was clear that they were taking fire.
Reason it out, girl,Tracy told herself, dark eyes narrowing in concentration behind the visor of her neurohelmet. The snipers must have assumed you were dead and swung around to the near side of the boulders to engage the Command Lance as it closed in.
The situation unfolded itself in her mind. The hidden enemy would have been waiting for them in a secure ambush among the boulders. They probably hadn't spotted the rest of the Recon Lance as yet, having seen none of the Gray Death Legion's 'Mechs beyond her own. She had been on point as the Legion wended its way into these barren, rugged hills. After the enemy had popped her, they must have realized they were being flanked and swung about to take the Gray Death's Command Lance. Right now, they would be above her, under cover on herside of the big boulder, with their backs to her.
Which meant that she should be able to take them by surprise.
How many enemy 'Mechs might there be? Tracy wondered. She had glimpsed only one. The fact that she had been under fire from a PPC and missiles did narrow the field of possible opponents somewhat. There just weren't that many BattleMechs mounting both particle cannon and missile racks. A Panther,possibly...
She nodded to herself. Yes. a 35-ton Panther,most likely. That was a Kurita favorite. Besides, the bad guys were not likely to post something as big and as expensive as a BattleMasterior rear-guard sniper duty out here in the wilderness. In her mind, the enemy had already made the transition from ‘they’ to ‘it.’ Assuming there was only one enemy 'Mech up there, it was probably a Panther.She should have no trouble taking it one-on-one with her 45-ton Phoenix Hawk.
Especially with the element of surprise. Tracy edged the Dutiful Daughterpart way up the loose slope, went into a crouch, then triggered her 'Mech's jump jets. White-hot plasma shrieked from the twin verniers set below her 'Mech's jets as the 'Mech straightened from its crouch and sailed skyward. The gravel slope blurred past her windscreen, and then the Hawkwas descending on ravening jets of flame, scattering gravel and raising a fresh cloud of dust. Her 'Mech took the shock of landing on partly bent legs as the Harmon heavy laser swung to cover a silhouette half-glimpsed against the largest boulder a hundred meters away. Even before her ID computer could bring up the target's name and tonnage, she recognized the enemy 'Mech.
A Griffin !She'd forgotten about Griffins!Ten tons heavier than her own BattleMech, slinging a Fusigon PPC like a rifle in its massive fists, and carrying a blunt, tubular LRM launcher across its right shoulder, an undamaged Griffin was more than a match for her own machine. Nor had her surprise been as complete as she'd hoped, for the Griffin was already spinning about, its PPC coming to the point.
Tracy bit off a curse and triggered her heavy laser. Coherent light stabbed into the heavier 'Mech's right side, scoring a black trail of scorched paint and hall-molten metal. The enemy PPC spat lightning an instant later. The blast caught the Dutiful Daughterfull in the chest and sent her staggering backward. While Tracy struggled to keep her 'Mech from tumbling back over the slope behind her, the electrical charge from the bolt spilled from her 'Mech in crackling forks that stabbed the ground around her. For a moment, her instruments went crazy as her charge shunts struggled with the massive overload.
Then she was moving again, circling right, her heavy laser snapping off a shot that melted rock and forced the Griffin to weave sideways out of her line of fire.
‘Skull Leader!’ she called, her voice taut with excitement and fear. ‘I'm back in the fight! Enemy Griffin behind the big rock!’
‘Back away.’ Carlyle's voice replied. ‘Pull back and take cover! We've got our hands full up here!’
A quick glance at her tac display showed the situation. There had been more than one ambusher. Four red pinpoints moved among the rocks now. surrounded by the loosely woven net of green. Three enemy 'Mechs among the boulders farther up the slope were engaging the Colonel's Command Lance as he tried to move down the hill. Behind her. the 'Mechs of the Gray Death's Fire Lance and the others of her Recon Lance were still hurrying forward, but too far...too far...
Another PPC bolt burned the air close to the Dutiful Daughter.She returned fire, burning deep into the armor above the enemy Griffinsright knee. The Colonel's order to pull out was lost in the surge of her own blazing need to strike back. She fired again, shifted, fired once more. The Griffinsnext shot struck air but carbonized the paint on her Mech's left pauldron.
Tracy knew that the duel could not continue much longer. Though the Griffin carried only slightly more armor than the Phoenix Hawk,its main weapon was heavier, able to give more damage to armor and to vulnerable internal wiring with each shot than her laser. The Dutiful Daughtermounted a pair of medium lasers as well, one set into the vambrace of each arm, side by side with paired heavy machine guns. She did not dare fire them at the same time as her heavy laser for fear of building up too much heat.
