Текст книги " Blood Legacy"

Автор книги: Michael A. Stackpole

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Phelan shrugged sheepishly. "That's what happens when you think with your adrenal glands."

"If you did all that in your panic mode, I want you in any unit I form up."

Cyrilla held her hand up. "Quiet. They're voting on Ulric."

The picture focused on the Clan banners as the Khans voted. A line along the bottom of the screen kept track of the totals. An obvious pattern arose right from the start, and by the end of the ballot, the vote exonerated Ulric overwhelmingly. Cyrilla clapped and Natasha cursed happily. Phelan just smiled.

"Now down to brass tacks. What's your read, Ril?"

The white-haired woman wrinkled her brow in thought. 'The Crusaders have to push for one of their own as ilKhan. I would have bet on Kincaid Furey, but Pehlan's ripostes hit home. He does not have the sense of your average surat ,and everyone knows that."

"Speak of the devil." Phelan pointed at the monitor as the camera focused on the Smoke Jaguar Khan.

Kincaid had regained control of his temper and stood stock-still. "I stand to apologize to Khan Ulric for having suspected him of complicity in the death of Leo Showers. I know my suspicions were fueled by my anger at his success. Perhaps it does take the anonymous delivery of truth to point out one's own limitations. Perhaps the first limit is seeing how easy it is to be mistaken."

Cyrilla's jaw dropped open and she paled visibly. "Oh, freebirth!No, they can't do this!"

"What?" Phelan looked from Cyrilla to Natasha's blank stare, then back to the monitor.

"Having been so abruptly acquainted with my stupidity, I now seek to remedy it. I, Kincaid Furey, nominate for the position of ilKhan, Khan Ulric of the Wolves."

Confusion knotted Phelan's brows in a frown. "What's going on? You two are reacting as if the world had ended. Isn't it good to have Ulric as the ilKhan?"

Natasha shook her head. "No, it's not good at all. Recall that Conal told you the ilKhan is to rule in accordance with the dictates of the Grand Council? That means Ulric will have to push the Crusader agenda if it is reconfirmed. From what Ril has told me, there are enough votes in the Council to endorse a resumption of the invasion."

Cyrilla nodded in agreement. Phelan saw that the color had returned to her face, and her brown eyes had angry sparks in them. "It gets worse. Not only do they hamstring Ulric, but he has to appoint his Wolf Khan replacement from within the Wolf Clan Council."

Phelan felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Let me guess. The Loremaster has traditionally been the person elevated to the position of Khan in such cases, Quiaff?"

"Bargained well and done." Natasha gathered her long red hair back with her hands, then tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. "They boxed us good on this one, eh, Ril?"

"They eliminate Ulric as a force and get a Crusader as a Wolf Khan."

As Cyrilla nodded with resignation and they heard no other candidate nominated as ilKhan, Phelan suddenly felt inexplicably giddy. "I think you may be selling Ulric short."

Cyrilla raised an eyebrow. "You see a way out of this trap?"

Phelan shrugged. "I do not, but that does not mean Ulric cannot find one. I saw him work through many tricky situations during the invasion. He managed to make ComStar dance to his tune and pay the piper. The Crusaders may be good, but I think Ulric might be better."

Along the bottom of the screen, the vote tallies appeared quickly. Without opposition, Ulric was elected easily. A number of Khans chose to abstain from the voting, and Phelan guessed those were Warden Khans protesting the railroading of their most successful comrade.

From the monitor came the sound of the Khans thumping their fists against their desktops to show approval. Conal Ward made a great show of vacating the ilKhan's chair. He offered Ulric his hand, then wandered up into the Council seating. All smiles, he plopped down into Ulric's old seat.

The camera shifted back to Ulric at the ilKhan's high bench. The ilKhan slowly removed his mask and set it on the bench. He smiled, stroked his goatee thoughtfully, then motioned to one of the Elementals. "Please escort Loremaster Ward from the chamber."

Kincaid Furey rose in mild protest. "Is that necessary, ilKhan? Your first act as ilKhan is to appoint your replacement as Wolf Khan. You can allow him to stay."

Ulric blinked innocently. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, because . . ." Kincaid started to answer, then abruptly fell silent.

The Elemental took Conal Ward by the elbow and started him up the center aisle. Before Conal had cleared the chamber, however, Ulric made an announcement. "As my replacement, I choose Natasha Kerensky "

Conal tore his arm from the Elemental's grasp. "What! You can't do that!"

"Please, Conal, your language. Consider where you are."

Phelan turned to Natasha. The famed Black Widow paled and stared at the screen. "Tell me he didn't say that, Ril."

Cyrilla started to laugh. "You heard it, Tasha. You are it."

"I'd sooner be Romano Liao's sister."

Conal posted his fists on his hips. "You know the tradition. The Loremaster is always selected to replace a Khan who has been elevated or otherwise rendered unable to serve."

Ulric steepled his fingers. "Not always, Conal. It has never happened when the Loremaster has declined the job."

"But I have not declined."

Ulric grinned cruelly. "Oh no? Did you not, during the Wolf Clan elections, say that you were unworthy to replace me? In fact, I seem to recall that you suggested Natasha Kerensky as a possible candidate for Khan. How can you complain when I merely acknowledge the wisdom of your recommendations?"

"Zap!" Phelan laughed. "Cut by your own knife, Conal!" He smiled at Natasha. "So much for that protest."

Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Never make it stick, Ulric." Her grin grew. "I've not tested out as a Mech Warrior yet, so they'll never let you elevate me to that position."

Kincaid looked positively forlorn as the Elemental drove Conal from the room. His face tightened. "ilKhan, you cannot choose Natasha Kerensky. She has not yet tested out as a MechWarrior. Because she does not have active-duty status, she cannot become a Khan."

"I believe you are wrong, Khan Kincaid." Ulric nodded at the Elemental near the side door. "If you will bring in the witness."

The Elemental opened the door and conducted Natasha's archivist to the stone platform Phelan had earlier occupied. The small man looked a bit nervous, but a devilish light played through his eyes. He smoothed his dark beard nervously with one hand, then he smiled and nodded to the ilKhan.

"For those who do not know, this is Gustavus Michaels. He accompanied Natasha Kerensky from the Inner Sphere and provided us with a detailed history of the Wolf Dragoons detachment since they left the Clans. He is quite conversant with Natasha's career and will assure you that she is very much a MechWarrior."

Kincaid folded his arms across his chest. "He has no standing here. His word about her exploits in the Inner Sphere means nothing."

With a wave of his hand, Ulric gave Michaels leave to speak. "If you will permit me, Khan Kincaid," the small man began, "the ilKhan did not ask me here to report any of the original data I have gathered. Instead, he asked me to research the background of all those who have been appointed Khans by the election of an ilKhan or a tragedy that forced replacement. What I found were four instances of a Bloodnamed individual chosen to serve as Khan despite his active duty status being under revocation or scrutiny. In two of those cases, the newly appointed Khan was in a coma."

Michaels smiled broadly. "And I can assure you that Natasha Kerensky is definitely not in a coma."

That remark brought a grin to Natasha's face and softened her sour expression. "He had this all planned out. When I get my hands on him, I'll kill him."

"Which one, Tasha, Ulric or Gus?"

"Yes."

The camera focused back on Ulric. "That should answer any questions you have, Khan Kincaid. Though I appreciate your concern that matters be conducted properly, let me remind you that I am the ilKhan. I need not justify my decisions to you. You may unseat me, if you wish, if you are able.You chose the landing zone, now you fight from it.

"Natasha Kerensky is the new Khan of the Wolves. What say you?"

"Seyla." Though a few voices were subdued, a confidence rang through the affirmation of Ulric's choice.

Ulric stood and leaned forward on his fists. "We have already wasted too much time, my Khans. We have elected a new ilKhan and have many important matters at hand. First and foremost is the invasion. The sooner we settle our differences, the sooner we can complete our conquest of the Inner Sphere."

18

Wolf's Dragoons General Headquarters, Outreach

Sarna March, Federated Commonwealth

3 July 3051

 

Hanse Davion shot from his chair, outrage etched clearly on his face. "I don't give a damn what Kai Allard or my son did to Sun-Tzu yesterday, much less a month ago. Your irrelevancies and tantrums are a constant obstruction to what we have to do here. You son's inability to work with others is not a central issue in this debate."

"I believe you mistaken, Hanse Davion." Romano glared at him like a tiger. "As I have suggested before, and will maintain forever, the microcosm of the training unit involving my son is a reflection of the universe at large. Let us not even mention the gross breaches of protocol and the ridicule to which he has been subjected. Let us only consider the physical abuse he has suffered at the hands of a pretender to my throne, and the death threats from your son."

As Hanse sat down, Justin Allard stood up slowly. "With all due respect, Madam Chancellor ..."

"Sit down, Allard. Though I don't see Davion's lips moving, I hear his words coming from your mouth. You have no standing here, no legitimacy."

Hanse saw Candace Liao lay her left hand on her husband's right forearm, then rise to stand beside him. "You will not dismiss me so easily, sister dear. What Prince Davion has been trying to explain, in words you can understand, is that the problem is not with our sons, it is with yourson. Just as the problems between our troops and your troops are problems with you. We face ravening hordes from beyond known space. It is a threat to us all. We need to band together to face this danger."

Romano threw back her head and laughed hysterically. "Ha! Band together! You would know all about that, wouldn't you, dear Candace? Twenty years ago, you joined forces with our enemies. Is that how you want us to face this threat now? You would have me do as you have done? Am I to give my troops over to Hanse Davion so he can destroy them as he will your forces? How stupid do you think I am?"

Candace's gray eyes blazed. "I have long since ceased any attempt to plumb the depths of your stupidity, Romano."

"Ladies, if you please!" Thomas Marik stood at his bench to Hanse's left. "Let us not have personal enmities divide us when we face more fundamental problems in our effort to oppose these Clans."

To Hanse, Thomas Marik looked haggard. Hanse knew that young Joshua Marik was not responding to medical treatment here on Outreach and that the Dragoon physicians were doubtful of the boy's survival. Still, they say the boy's a fighter. Perhaps he will outlive us all.

Thomas looked around the room with the calm authority he'd developed as a ComStar Adept. "Lady Romano's objection to sending her troops so far from home is well-founded. Her nation, among all of ours, has suffered the most from predation by its neighbors." He inclined his head toward Prince Magnusson of Free Rasalhague. "Your holding excepted in the current crisis."

Resuming his thread, Thomas went on. "Because of history and her desire not to repeat it, she is wise to be cautious."

"Bah." Hanse waved that objection away. "I give her my word that none of my troops will set foot in her realm until twenty years after the Clans have been defeated."

Thomas smiled less than sympathetically. "I am sure you offer that assurance in the spirit of cooperation, but I think Lady Romano is not so easily calmed. Recall that the most recent battles she has fought were against my Free Worlds League."

Hanse grinned wolfishly. "Then you offer her a pledge of nonaggression and let's get on with this."

"Touché,Prince Davion." The Captain-General brought his hands together in a prayerful position. "I think, though, given my nation's reputation for instability and your willingness to launch an assault on the very day of your wedding may leave any guarantees we offer still suspect. Even the wording of your statement suggests that your troops wouldend up in her holding whenever the truce ended."

Hanse pointed at Theodore Kurita. "The Kanrei and I have concluded a non-aggression pact. If the two of us can trust one another, why cannot Lady Romano trust you and me?" Because she's mad, that's why.The second the thought hit him, Hanse saw it reflected in Thomas Marik's eyes.

"That is a question only she can answer." Marik bowed his head briefly, then brought it back up. "I did not rise to answer for her, nor to adjudicate your dispute. I am more concerned with my doubts about committing troops to this effort. From my border to the front is a distance of somewhere between 260 and 320 light years. This means nine to eleven jumps in a JumpShip. Simply stated, I do not have the resources needed to deliver troops in the numbers needed to be of any help."

"Nonsense," Hanse snarled angrily. "The rest of us are willing to do whatever it takes."

"To commit the necessary numbers of ships would gut my economy. Unlike the rest of you, I am not a dictator who rules by divine fiat." The fire-scars on the right side of Marik's face made him look yet fiercer. "If I drive the economy into the ground to help stave off an enemy threat, the Parliament will vote me out. And I'm not sure they wouldn't be right to do so."

Magnusson smashed his fist against the top of his desk. "How can you consider politics when this threat affects us all? We are not whistling in the dark while strolling through a graveyard. The danger is real. If the Clans return by fall, their rate of progress would put them on Atreus in two years. They would reach Sian even quicker if they split the Federated Commonwealth. If you don't do something, you will end up in the same grave as half my people."

Thomas shook his head. "With all due respect, Prince Magnusson ..."

"No, Captain-General, there is no need to wrap your excuses in platitudes to hide your contempt for my nation. In your eyes, I am due no respect. You are only marginally more acceptable to me than Lady Romano because you are more silent, but neither of you understand the true horror of the Clan invasion."

The white-haired Prince pointed to where Morgan Kell sat behind Melissa Steiner. "Ask Colonel Kell how it feels to lose a son to the Clans." He turned and pointed behind him to a military officer in a wheelchair. "Ask Tor Miraborg how it feels to lose his daughter to the Clans. Ask me how it feels to watch someone like Tyra Miraborg take her fighter into the hull of a clan JumpShip in a suicidal attempt to save my life. Ask any of my people what it is like to be driven from their homes, from their worlds! And if that does not tell you anything, only think back to the wars of ten years ago to recall that hollow feeling in your soul when the enemy threatens everything you hold dear.

"If you do not act now, you will know that feeling yet again."

Melissa Steiner rose to her feet. "I know that feeling only too well, as do others in this room. Colonel Wolf and Colonel Kell have both pledged their mercenary units to the fight. Hanse and I have agreed that we shall devote our forces to opposing the Clans. Candace Liao has promised her crack units, and we know Prince Magnusson and the Kanrei will contribute everything they have to defeating the enemy. I do not enjoy war, but I acknowledge that there are times it must be fought."

She turned and held out a hand in Romano's direction. "Madam Chancellor, Ipromise no Federated Commonwealth troops will disturb your sovereignty. Ipromise your troops will not be used as cannon fodder against the Clans. I make the same promises to you, Thomas Marik. Join us."

As Melissa sat back down, she slipped her left hand into Hanse's right. He felt her trembling and gave her hand a squeeze. When she looked up at him, he nodded reassuringly. "Yes, Melissa. If this is what we must do, if these are the promises we must make, I abide by your words," he whispered gently.

Romano stood with a languid motion that suggested great weariness. She stifled a yawn with the back of her right hand, then discarded her act with a look of disgust. "Keep your promises, Archon Steiner. As Hanse Davion's brood mare, you are amusing, but I have no doubt he would disregard your assurances as quickly as any he himself made. I will not sacrifice my people on an altar of hollow promises built solely on your vanity."

The Chancellor from the Capellan Confederation turned her cold eyes on Prince Magnusson. "As for you, my dear Prince, your nation and your son are of the same age. Given what I hear of his prowess in a 'Mech, I would guess they have the same life expectancy. Your nation is nothing more than a Combine prefecture given the illusion of freedom. If by now you do not realize the joke that has been played on you, more's the pity."

She raised her hand in a salute to him. "How curious it is, Prince Magnusson, that your people's hatred for mercenaries now turns to adoration for them. The citizens of Rasalhague may choose to forget events of the past because of present problems, but I do not have that luxury. Each morning I see from my window the overgrown remains of a 'Mech company that Hanse Davion destroyed in my capital. I will not be duped by him, nor talked into being duped by the rest of you. I remain unconvinced that the Fox has changed, and I knowhis old ways breed true in his children."

The scar over Magnusson's right eye stood out in stark white contrast to his florid features. "I pray, Lady Romano, that you are staring at those mouldering 'Mechs when the Clans take your capital away from you. Then you can lament not believing the Fox when he was telling the truth. There is no way out unless you choose to trust us, Romano. Otherwise you will be caught in a trap of your own making. Remember that when the trap snaps shut."

Thomas Marik rose again to speak, but Hanse barely listened. Our only chance to defeat the Clans is to band together. "Hang together or hang separately, as they used to say."He glared at Romano. All of us with out heads in the noose, and she's playing with the gallows lever. I hope to God the Clans are as divided as we are. If not, the days of the Inner Sphere are numbered, and those numbers have damned few digits.

19

Warrior Testing Center

Strana Mechty, Beyond the Periphery

21 July 3051

 

Phelan Wolf twisted his gunbelt around and tied the holster down to his right leg. Turning to present himself to Natasha, he tried to force a smile of confidence. "Ready as I'll ever be."

She returned the smile, but shook her head. "God above, your language has deteriorated."

"It's the company I keep."

Natasha slung her arm around his neck and guided him toward the 'Mech bay. "Look, kid, you'll do fine. I've got your 'Mech configured in a way that will do maximum damage. It's unique, like my 'Mech. I tagged your Omni with the name Lone Wolf."

Despite the big grin on Natasha's face, the younger MechWarrior felt something was wrong. He nodded grimly. "I hope that name's not an omen. I know it's not traditional, but are we working together out there?"

Natasha slapped the flat of his belly with the back of one hand. "You better believe it. The second I launch on one of your targets, it becomes a free-for-all." Her voice lost some of its jocularity and settled into a colder tone. "I need it like that because I'm going to have to ace my trio and kill one of yours to make these idiots sit up and take notice. Hope you won't mind me stealing one of your targets."

"Take them all. They're small."

Her laugh was half-hearted. "Can't do that. You'll have to take one to be put on active duty. That's the only way to get you in my unit." Serious again, she exhaled slowly. "On the other hand, only by taking four 'Mechs will I get a Cluster command. But if that's what it takes to get through the age bias, then I'll do it."

"I have no doubt that you will succeed, Colonel," Phelan said, though Natasha sounded as though she were still trying to convince herself of that fact.

"Are you so certain?"

The young man nodded confidently. "I recall your once saying that old age and treachery will beat youth and beauty every time. Sure, we'll be facing warriors younger and faster than you, but none of them will take either one of us seriously."

"Except Vlad."

"Yeah," Phelan said as his mouth soured, "except Vlad. This isn't going to be easy, but if anyone can do it, you can."

Natasha gave Phelan a sly smile. "Yes, I definitely want you in my unit."

Halfway down the row of BattleMechs in the hanger, Natasha gave Phelan a gentle shove toward his machine. "Here you go, kid. Warm it up and check all the weapons. I'll be online on Tac 29. We won't be able to communicate once the test starts, but until they give the word, we can exchange data."

"Roger."

"Phelan, remember that we have some advantages. They don't know about the configurations of our 'Mechs, but we're running assault 'Mechs that'll outmass any one of them. They're running nonstandard heavies, so we can't be sure what we're up against. The most important thing for you to remember, however, is that this is live. The testers are volunteers who are willing to risk death. That doesn't mean you go out to smoke them, but if it happens, it happens."

"I know that. With Vlad out there, though, I think they're going to be going directly after me."

Natasha shrugged. "He'll let the others soften you up first, then he'll take you. Play smart and you'll be ready for him."

"Thanks. Good luck."

"Save the luck for the other guys. Old age and treachery will do fine for me." She threw him a wink and headed off to her own 'Mech.

Phelan paused and looked up at his BattleMech as it stood there waiting for him. Six times his height, the war machine was painted black except in two spots. On the right hip, he saw the red wolf's-head crest of the Kell Hounds, the mercenary unit owned by his family. On the head was painted a mouth with sharp white fangs, war paint reminiscent of the markings on the 'Mech he'd lost when captured by the Clans almost two years ago.

Phelan made a couple of guesses from the exterior about the weaponry arrayed in the machine. The blocky shoulders were dotted with missile launch ports. The right arm ended in a blocky weapon pod with three laser muzzles poking from it like stubby fingers. The left arm ended in a muzzle, but it bore none of the telltale circuitry he would have expected on a PPC or laser, and it looked nothing like the autocannon muzzle hanging from the weapon pod underslung on the torso.

A box with six launch tubes was attached above the cockpit, just aft of the hatch. As he mounted the 'Mech, Phelan took a close look at it and decided it was a "fire and forget" packet of missiles. One shot and it's gone.The coding on the side of the launcher indicated that these were short-range missiles. If I have to use them, it will mean that things have gotten a bit dicey. Still, just like wearing this pistol, it's nice to have something for emergencies.

Phelan dropped into the cockpit, sealed and pressurized it, then brought the 'Mech online. As he satisfied the computer that he was the pilot assigned to the machine, it gave him a full readout of the 'Mech's offensive capabilities. He saw a number of things that confused him, so he switched the radio to Tac 29.

"Natasha, I have a couple of questions for you."

"Ask away."

"The LRM launcher in the left shoulder is loaded with Swarm missiles in its first twelve racks?"

"Swarms are LRMs that will saturate an area with submunitions. Our foes will be grouped together like Siamese triplets at the start of this operation. Standard procedure is for them to engage us one at a time. You've shown how to really screw them up when you just start nailing anything and everything. The Swarms will ladle out damage generously."

"But won't that get all of them attacking us at once?"

Natasha's laugh survived computer modulation intact. "Of course. Would you prefer that they use a strategy that makes them comfortable or uncomfortable?"

"Point taken. This LBX autocannon has Cluster loads."

"Shotgun shells. It'll sand all the armor off a foe. Once you've softened him up, your lasers ought to cut him to ribbons."

Phelan nodded to himself and studied the auxiliary monitor. "Gauss rifle in my left arm?"

"Great weapon. It uses magnetic currents to launch a ball of ferrous metal about the diameter of a melon. Generates next to no heat and packs one hell of a wallop. The only problem is that its power requirements are fairly heavy. If you try to shoot it and the lasers at the same time, the computer will have to cycle and allocate power, so it will take a bit longer to get your salvo off."

Phelan looked up and through his cockpit canopy and saw Natasha's BattleMech stride into view. It had the same bird legs as his 'Mech and a cylindrical body built up at the shoulder to accommodate missile launchers. On the 'Mech's right side, Phelan saw the stubby muzzle of an autocannon and a triangular configuration of laser muzzles in the chest. Both arms ended in slender sets of two weapon barrels in an over-and-under arrangement. Natasha's 'Mech was painted black, and the red hourglass marking of a Black Widow spider emblazoned the 'Mech's abdomen.

Phelan smiled as he read the computer's name for her 'Mech. "Widowmaker? That's appropriate. Looks like you're loaded for bear, Colonel Kerensky."

"For Wolves, Phelan. I know that isn't precisely the Kell Hounds color scheme on your 'Mech, but you're no longer a hound. You're a Wolf now—we both are."

Phelan started his BattleMech forward. "Let's go prove it to the others, shall we?"

* * *

Two sets of three BattleMechs stood waiting to test the warriors. Their paint schemes allowed the outlines of the 'Mechs to blend with the red rocks and sandy terrain, but the visual trickery did not fool Phelan's weaponry. "I've got my three targets over on the left. I wonder which one is Vlad?"

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Natasha's 'Mech moved slightly forward of Phelan's position. "Tell you what. I'll mark the 'Mech of yours closest to my set." She sounded tentative, then seemed to recognize it and uttered a soft curse. "Dammit, these young pups won't get to me."

Phelan said nothing.

"Sorry, Phelan. I don't like this, but there is no other way to make a difference. When we get the go-ahead, let him have it with your long-range weaponry. I'll toss a barrage of missiles at the Mad Dog,but I'm going to take one of my own targets with my beams."

"Confirmed."

Ulric's voice boomed through the speakers in Phelan's neurohelmet. "Natasha Kerensky and Phelan of the Wolves, this is your testing time. Every aspect of your performance will be examined and evaluated. The rating generated by this process will determine your duties until the next testing period. Defeat no enemies and you will lose your status as a Warrior. Defeat one and you will be given a 'Mech assignment. Defeat two and you will earn the right to be a Star Commander. Three kills will earn you the rank of Star captain. Do you understand this, Quiaff?"'

"Aff."

"Very well. Natasha, your targets are designated by red triangles on your tactical scanner. Phelan, your targets are blue squares. Your foes already know that defeat here will not reflect negatively on them in any official way. Natasha, Burke Carson is one of your opponents, and Vladimir of the Wolves is set against Phelan. As both of you know, this is very important. Neatness does not count. You have won as long as you are operational and your enemy is not. Even if you have to drag yourself off the battlefield with your arms, you will be victorious."

Ulric's voice lost power as he opened lines to all the 'Mechs on the battlefield. "Let the testing begin!"

Phelan dropped the crosshairs on his battle array down to cover the torso of the 'Mech sandwiched between his and Natasha's group. He hit both buttons on top of the targeting joysticks and tightened down on the trigger under his left index finger. He felt a rush of heat as the 'Mech rocked back with the recoil.

Natasha's flight of LRMs reached the Mad Dogfirst, so Phelan's missiles screamed into the roiling fireball already consuming the 'Mech. LRMs sprayed the whole torso and peppered its head, blasting armor into ferro-ceramic splinters. Phelan saw the 'Mech stagger slightly, then the Gauss rifle's silvery ball projectile slammed into its left shoulder. The impact crushed armor and spun the massive war engine to the ground. It rolled back toward one of its teammates, but that pilot deftly danced his machine out of danger.

Phelan pulled his BattleMech back, taking cover behind a low hill. A glance at his secondary monitor gave him a status report on the downed 'Mech, making him shudder. "Computer shows his cockpit was hit. He's dead or wounded, just for a test."

Phelan worked around to the left, splitting off from Natasha to engage his own testers. Clearing the low hill, he saw one of his targets standing over the damaged 'Mech while the other headed straight toward Phelan's low hill. The computer identified that OmniMech as a Warhawk.

Stepping up onto the hilltop, Phelan spitted the 'Mech on his crosshairs and fired a second barrage. The twin missile flights bracketed the incoming Clan 'Mech. Missiles exploded armor on the Warhawk'sarms and legs, with minor damage to its right flank resulting from two errant warheads. The Gauss rifle's sphere hit the barrel of the PPC mounted in the left arm and skipped along it to slam into the Warhawk'selbow, but it failed to damage the gun before it discharged its particle beam.

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