Текст книги "Wolves On The Border"

Автор книги: Robert N. Charette

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

The computer readout showed only one non-standard system—a Holly launcher replacing the Capellan-built Sian ICeres Jaguar missile system. The Holly's discharge rate was slightly inferior to that listed for a factory-fresh Jaguar launcher, but its reputation among ‘Mech Warriors of the Inner Sphere was far superior. This unit's maintenance record was spotless, and the BattleMech's overall record was nearly as good.

“The Vindicatoris adequate, Tech Bynfield.”

Bynfield's voice was hard with sarcasm. “Glad you're pleased, Colonel.We try so hard to perform to adequate standards. If you could be troubled to step this way.”

The Tech indicated a jitney that had arrived while Minobu was studying the computer files. On the passenger seat was a cooling vest, the feedback sensor cords coiled neatly on top. Minobu removed the garment and took a seat. He had barely settled in when Bynfield gunned the engine and directed the vehicle toward the back of the hangar. They roared through the open doors and headed for the vehicle park. As they approached, Minobu recognized the silhouette of the Vindicatorfrom the plan views stored in the data file. A power lift scaffold nestled next to the 'Mech, and a pair of jitneys and a coolant truck were parked at its feet.

Bynfield brought the vehicle to an abrupt stop and jumped out. She headed for the 'Mech, her back stiff. Minobu climbed out and stood in the shade of the BattleMech to strip off his uniform and don the cooling vest. As he watched Bynfield supervise her crew's final preparations for powering up the 'Mech, her concern for perfection and technical expertise was evident. She moved and directed with the sureness of a master. Now he understood her attitude. He had treated her as a simple lackey, not as the artist she obviously believed herself. When she returned to announce the 'Mech was ready, Minobu bowed.

“I am grateful, Senior Master.”

Bynfield stood for a moment, puzzlement written all over her face. Then she shook her head and started to reach for the pile that was his uniform and swords. “Your gear'll be at HQ, sir.”

Minobu stepped in her way. “You may take the uniform when I am gone. The swords I must take with me.” He lifted the wakizashi.Loosening the sageyocord, he looped it over his shoulder, and retied it. He settled the sword where the blade would not get in his way when he clambered aboard the 'Mech. He did the same for the katana,his motions quick and practiced.

“Right. Well, the Vindicator'sall set, sir. The neurocircuits have been adjusted to an open setting, and so you shouldn't get any feedback. You can ride the lift up.” She watched as he entered the cage. Minobu engage the drive and began to rise up the length of the 'Mech. “Crazy samurai,” he heard her say to another crew member, though he knew Bynfield had not intended him to overhear. Then she picked up the uniform and walked away.

The lift jarred to a stop at cockpit level, where Minobu picked his way across the hot metal of the 'Mech's exterior. Before entering, he unslung his swords. Holding them both by the scabbard cords, he slid through the open hatch and into the pilot's seat. Swords safely stowed, he looked over the controls and checked the 'Mech's system monitors before reaching up to close and dog the hatch.

Sliding the neurohelmet free of its cradle, he settled it onto the padded shoulders of the vest and plugged the control leads into the console. He waited for the brief wave of dizziness that he knew would come. The neurohelmet was a sophisticated computer interface that fed data on the BattleMech's stance and position to the wearer. The 'Mech's control systems then utilized the feedback from the pilot's own sense of equilibrium to guide the gyros in controlling the motion of the machine. All this occurred below the level of the ‘Mech Warrior's consciousness, but the moment of connection was always palpable.

The vertigo came and passed quickly, only slightly more unpleasant than Minobu was used to because the frequencies were not adjusted specifically to him. A rush of adrenalin came with the sense of the machine's balance. He was in control of the BattleMech. The viewscreens, set to the visible spectrum, revealed the ground crew clearing away. As he moved the 'Mech out of the vehicle park, he lifted the PPC in salute.

Today, if only for a little while, Minobu Tetsuhara was a ‘MechWarrior again.

8

Fire Rift, Quentin IV

Draconis March, Federated Suns

17 June 3023

 

The Vindicatormoved through a hellish landscape. Minobu had seen no signs of animal life, and the only plants were scrubby bushes and rough grasses, all tinted with tawny chlorophyll analog that had evolved here. Everywhere he looked were columns of red rock, sculpted into fantastic spires reminiscent of the antique minarets and arches of Al Na'ir. Scattered among them were mesas of banded sediment aproned in talus piles and dusted with weathered gray pumice and ash. In several places, plumes of vapor rose from active volcanic vents. All of it was wrapped in the distortion of heat haze and a pall of smoke.

It was much hotter here than near the spaceport. There was direct solar heat from the blazing white sun, reflected heat from the dazzling ash, and activity heat from the 'Mech's movements. Heat was a ‘MechWarrior's constant concern. If the internal heat of a BattleMech rose too high, its functional efficiency was impaired. Delicate systems could malfunction, and there was the danger of an ammunition explosion if the machine carried a missile rack or a ballistic weapon. And if the heat levels rose too high, automatic safety circuits could shut down the 'Mech's fusion power plant, leaving the ‘Mech Warrior helpless in the midst of a battle. He was only on the outskirts of Fire Rift now. Deeper into the region, it would be worse, for smoke plumes to the south showed that volcanic activity was greater there.

Minobu checked the Vindicator'sheat scale. It was still low, but that would change if he had to engage in combat. The Dragoon Techs had set speed governors and lengthened the recycle time for weapons on their 'Mechs to slow the crippling buildup of heat. He must not forget that if he was to use this 'Mech effectively. Status readouts indicated that the heat exchangers were operating at 52 percent of standard capacity. It would be far too easy to overheat this machine.

The Vindicatorheaded along the bearing Minobu had received from the command center when he left Batan, a course that was supposed to take him to the Alpha Regiment's field headquarters to link up with Wolf. The mercenary had not waited while Minobu was fitted out with the loaner 'Mech. He and his Command Lance had moved out, leaving their liaison to follow. Minobu wondered briefly if it might be another test, but decided that a more likely explanation was Wolf's desire to take charge quickly.

Communications had been fitful since he'd entered the Fire Rift area. When not screened completely by the masses of granitic extrusions in the surrounding landscape, they were broken up by static. Only when he crossed a hogback could Minobu pick up the Dragoon battle frequencies with reasonable clarity. The elevation also exposed the Vindicatorto enemy observation, a risk not worth taking. Constant communications linkage was not critical at this time.

He had not been able to make contact with Alpha Command. Presumably, they remained at the location he had seen on the command map at the port. A check of the map display on his right showed that he was only forty-five or so kilometers from the site. Were the terrain clear, the 'Mech could get him there in two hours, even with its speed limited by a governor. That was a vain thought, however. The terrain was anything but clear, and getting worse. The trip would take considerably longer, but he could not predict how much.

Minobu maneuvered the Vindicatordown a slope and onto an old lava flow. Because walking the 'Mech was easier on the relatively flat surface, he was able to increase his pace for awhile. When the flow began to lead away in another direction, he was forced to return to tramping over broken rock and scrabbling through the scree.

Distances were deceptive in these badlands. Erosion had sculpted many fantastic shapes, in many sizes, but size and shape had no connection, and the stone had no scale. Combined with the lack of ordinary measures, such as trees, vehicles, or people, it was almost impossible to gauge the distance to any of the natural features. What looked to be a tremendous tableland, kilometers away, could turn out to be a miniature mesa only meters off. It was all a giant illusion that would have intrigued and delighted his grandfather, a gardener in the ancient Japanese tradition of recreating the natural world in the microcosm of a garden.

Grandfather had often taken him into the family garden. In that quiet place, the old man had begun young Minobu's first training in the disciplines of muga,opening him to the paths of inner solitude that are the strength of a samurai. With Grandfather at his side, Minobu had walked those paths, inner and outer, among bonsaitrees carefully cultured to make mounds into mountains.

Minobu's first sight of the wrecked BattleMech came as he passed through an arch of ruddy stone. Frozen in place against the background of spires and buttes, the 'Mech was gigantic, dwarfing the tablelands. Illusion and his memories had caught him. This was no refugee from a child's holo entertainment, no impossible machine standing hundreds of meters tall. It was an ordinary Griffin,destroyed in combat. The 'Mech was only fifty meters away, not the hundreds it had first appeared to be.

The left side of the machine's torso was armless and ripped open. Even a novice ‘MechWarrior could have told that an ammunition explosion had destroyed this 'Mech. The battle damage was light, fingering heat as the killer. Probably an internal buildup followed by detonation of the warheads on its missiles. A similar fate could await his Vindicator,for it carried one hundred-twenty 87mm free-flight rockets, in racks of five. Any one set exploding in its rack would gut the BattleMech more surely than a hit from an enemy PPC. To ignore the high ambient heat level would be suicide.

The Griffinbore Dragoon markings, and so Minobu scanned for the pilot. The IR was useless for finding a man's body heat among the furnace of rocks, however, and a visual check yielded no better results. The ‘Mech Warrior was gone or dead. Minobu entered the location on his map display for later salvage, and then moved on.

At one point, a geyser erupted nearby, spattering the Vindicatorwith drops of boiling water. Without conscious effort, Minobu sidestepped the 'Mech clear of most of the falling water. Once he and the 'Mech were safe, he realized that he had achieved muga.Action without thought. If only briefly, he had burst the barrier. Control of the 'Mech's movements became easier. Though the machine was sluggish because of the speed governor, he had carried out its movements as though they were his own. Suddenly, the way seemed shorter, and the landscape slid by.

An hour later, as he topped a rise, Minobu's receiver picked up a broadcast. He made a slight adjustment to the comm unit to bring the signal in clearer. Static still blurred many of the words, but he recognized the strained voice of Captain Cameron broadcasting a string of coordinates. Minobu waited until he finished, diverted power to his comm unit, then sent his own call. “Cameron, this is Chu-saTetsuhara. Do you copy?”

“Unity!” Static hiss distorted the words, but not beyond comprehension. “Colonel Tetsuhara, where are you? Wait. Keep transmitting so I can get a fix. We thought we'd lost you, too.”

Too? Minobu wondered who else was missing. The sudden thought that it might be Lord Kurita terrified him. “What do you mean? Is the Coordinator safe?”

“Huh?” The question caught the Captain off-guard. His usual tranquility was shattered, lost in turmoil. “I think so. I mean, his ship hasn't landed yet. It's the Colonel, sir. We've lost contact with him.”

“Calm yourself, Captain,” Minobu said, taking his own advice now that he was assured of the Coordinator's safety. “Can you vector me to your location?”

“Yes, sir.” The air went dead while Cameron consulted his computer. Minobu waited for him to transmit the heading. When the coordinates were broadcast, he changed his direction to match them. “Tell me what happened,” he ordered.

“Command Lance moved out after you left to get your 'Mech. By the time we reached Alpha HQ, Major Yukinov had a confirmed count of over twenty 'Mechs, all flying Stomper colors, sniping from the Rift. He had three 'Mechs out of action and another four M.I.A. Alpha was having trouble pinning the Stompers down, and he wasn't getting anywhere.

“The Colonel was worried we'd have to shift too much firepower to deal with these guys and that it would tip our hand to Davion. Scans were garbage and communications intermittent. The Colonel wanted to know just what was happening, and so he headed out to see for himself. He left me and Major Blake here, and took the rest of Command Lance.”

That meant Wolf had three other 'Mechs with him.

“About forty-five minutes ago, we got a burst transmission that they'd been caught in a Stomper ambush. Lieutenant Vordel's last report stated that the Colonel's antennae had been shot away just after he ordered the lance to scatter. Vordel lost sight of the Colonel in the badlands.

“We've called up Charleton's Company from reserve to keep those Stompers off our back while we look for the Colonel. Major Blake is up in his LAM.”

That was interesting. Minobu hadn't known that the Command Lance included on of those rare Land-Air 'Mechs. Most Successor Houses had trouble keeping those multiform 'Mechs in fighting trim. That a mercenary force could maintain one said much about the Dragoons' technical staff and supply capabilities.

“Conditions are terrible. The long-range scanners aren't worth a ComStar repair prayer out there. With the Colonel's radio out, we've got to find him by visual.”

“Then you will need all available pilots,” Minobu stated. “How close am I to where the Colonel was last reported?”

There was a pause before Cameron's voice came back hesitantly. “Five klicks. North and east.”

“Where are your other searchers?”

Cameron gave him the details of the assigned search sectors and the number of Dragoon 'Mechs in each. The number of hostiles was unknown.

“Very well. I will proceed into sector seven-delta-three-three because your coverage there is limited.”

Changing his 'Mech's heading, Minobu ignored Cameron's protests that he come to the field HQ for his own safety. Minobu was Chief Liaison Officer to Wolf's Dragoons for the PSL. Knowing Wolf's whereabouts was his duty. If no one else had that information, he would have to get it himself. A samurai could not sit idle when his duty was clear.

Minobu felt a curious relief when growing interference swallowed up Cameron's voice. Was it simply the welcome lack of distraction? Was he glad to be free of reminders that his actions were more becoming to a simple soldier than to an officer, that he was neglecting his real duty in order to prove that he was still a ‘MechWarrior? He concentrated on piloting, trying to ignore questions he did not want to answer.

The course changes forced upon him by the tortuous terrain brought him near the coordinates of the ambush. The comm frequencies were empty, save for the hiss and sputter of static. He decided to check the site. It was entirely possible that Wolf had returned to learn the fate of his lance. Lacking communications, the last place where they had all been together could be deemed a reasonable rally point.

The fight had been hard, and the land bore testimony to the fury unleashed there. Minobu studied the ground, envisioning what had happened. The Dragoons had been surprised by a sudden attack. Where it had come was marked by blackened craters and glazed patches of sand from near-misses. Not all the enemy's shots had been misses, however. Chips of armor and fused lumps of metal attested to that. A BattleMech arm lay half-buried in the dirt, severed raggedly by explosive force, but there were no other obvious casualties.

Minobu observed the ground where it was scarred by the rapid turns and accelerations the Dragoon machines had made to escape the fire zone. He could see that they had scattered in four different directions, probably hoping to lose their pursuers in the maze of the badlands.

He suddenly realized that he had no idea what type of BattleMech Wolf piloted. Three of the Dragoon 'Mechs involved in the fight had been heavy machines. He could tell their paths from the depth of their tracks. The fourth was considerably lighter, a Waspor Stinger.It was the owner of the arm left on the field. That one was not likely to be Wolf's. A commander of his stature was too valuable to fight in so fragile a BattleMech. Of the others, any could be Wolf's machine.

Overlaying the tracks of the Command Lance 'Mechs were those laid down by many other machines as the Snake Stompers followed in pursuit of their prey. The signs indicated that these 'Mechs were lighter but more numerous.

A call on Dragoon frequencies produced no results, which did not surprise Minobu. Because any of the heavy 'Mech trails could be Wolf's, his decision was easy for a samurai. He followed the one indicating the passage of more enemy BattleMechs.

The trail soon became difficult to follow. The Dragoon was keeping to harder ground, no doubt believing that this would make his pursuers' job rougher. The enemy's scanners had to be crippled as those of the Dragoons, though that would also make it harder for anyone trying to aid the Dragoon warrior.

Signs of the Stomper 'Mechs vanished first. They were lighter than the machine they hunted. Then marks made by the Dragoon 'Mech became more scarce. Minobu had hunkered the Vindicatordown in order to better use shadows in reading particular marks of passage when his exterior sound pickups brought him the sound of shifting gravel. As he was straightening his machine to a standing position, the new arrival announced his presence over his external speakers of his 'Mech.

“Move it easy and you don't get cratered, friend.”

9

Fire Rift, Quentin IV

Draconis March, Federated Suns

17 June 3023

 

Keeping his 'Mech's movements slow, Minobu noticed that his rear scanners showed a BattleMech half-hidden in the shadow of a twisted spire of stone. No visible markings betrayed its allegiance, though its type—a fifty-five-ton Shadow Hawk—was clear. The newcomer's autocannon, locked into its firing position, pointed out over the left shoulder. The machine's right arm, bearing an externally mounted laser, was extended in Minobu's direction.

“At ease, ‘MechWarrior,” Minobu transmitted as he slowly pivoted his 'Mech. “I am Chu-saTetsuhara. We are on the same side.”

Had the pilot been one of the hostile mercenaries, Minobu was sure the other warrior would have fired rather than spoken. Because they knew all their own BattleMechs by sight, an unfamiliar machine had to be an enemy and subject to immediate attack. The Dragoons, being from a far larger and better-supplied organization, were less likely to know all their own machines. That was definitely one of the Stompers' advantages in the maze of Fire Rift. Minobu pointed his PPC at the sky, but kept his finger near his jump jet ignition switch in case his reading of the situation was wrong.

“Tetsu—” boomed the voice from the Shadow Hawk'sspeakers. “Whatchu doing out here?”

“If you care to switch to your radio instead of bellowing all over the Rift, I'd be glad to discuss it,” Minobu answered over his own comm unit.

“Uh, right.” The other pilot's voice was suspicious. A second or two later, the ‘MechWarrior added, “Colonel.”

“As to what I am doing, I am looking for Colonel Wolf.”

“Ain't that a surprise.” The suspicion was gone now. The Dragoons had enough confidence in their communications network that they believed it safe from interception. Only a Dragoon, or an ally, would know Wolf was missing. “I'm Sergeant Dechan Fraser. I thought I was the only one assigned to this sector, Colonel.”

“I assigned myself. Colonel Wolf must be located soon.”

“Don't that beat all?” As the Shadow Hawkmoved forward to join him, its autocannon slid back into transport position. As the sunlight struck the dark blue 'Mech striding from the shadows, it revealed a stooping golden hawk on the machine's chest and a black wolf's head against a red disk on the left shoulder.

Fraser crouched his 'Mech and scanned the tracks Minobu had been studying. “Ain't been long. Sun hasn't dried the bottom yet.” The Shadow Hawkstraightened up, its left arm pointing. “Looks like he went that way. This ‘Mech's got company. He's gonna need help, with them Stompers on his tail.”

“We shall be that help.”

“You know, Colonel, I like your attitude. Let's go.”

Ten minutes later, their microphones picked up the distant sound of missile fire. They adjusted course and accelerated toward the noise, only slowing when Fraser reported sighting a BattleMech moving through the shade of a ridgeline. He and Minobu took their 'Mechs to cover to observe the situation.

What they saw were several Stomper machines ahead, stalking a target not yet in sight. Minobu counted four: a Locust,a Stinger,a Javelin,and a Valkyrie—all light 'Mechs with low-power weapons. The machines were moving cautiously, taking full advantage of cover. The pilots were probably worried about the firepower of their quarry. Except for the Valkyrie,none carried long-range weaponry. Any of the missing Dragoon BattleMechs could have outranged them.

Moving his machine forward, Minobu caught sight of the Stompers' target through a notch in a ridgeline. It was the blue and gold Archer.

The pilot had tried to cross what he must have thought was an old lava flow, but it was not old enough. The seventy-ton machine had crashed through the crust, falling in to its waist. Steam rose around it, and Minobu could see the glow of molten rock whenever the 'Mech's legs churned in its attempts to free itself.

He beamed a transmission at the struggling BattleMech to warn the pilot that help was on the way, but Minobu was not surprised that the Archerdid not respond. The 'Mech's motions were slow and disjointed, as though the pilot were dazed or disoriented. The heat inside the cockpit would be debilitating, leaving the warrior helpless. If the warrior fired any weapons, he could cook himself.

“Your comrade is in serious trouble,” Minobu transmitted to Fraser. “The Stompers haven't realized it yet, but he is helpless. He does not have much time.”

“Then what are we waiting for, Colonel? Let's go get him.” With that, the Shadow Hawkwas up and moving, its autocannon laying down a barrage.

Minobu followed more cautiously. The Dragoon BattleMechs would normally have been more than a match for the Stompers ahead of them, but the light 'Mechs did not carry the heat burden of their heavier brethren. Their activity levels would be set higher, too. Here on Quentin, that might outweigh the armor and armament advantages of the medium 'Mechs.

The Stompers scrambled for cover at the sudden onslaught, but they fired as they moved. Keeping out of sight of the trapped Archer,they turned to deal with his friends first, the response of disciplined veterans. Even so, one Stamper did not make it to cover fast enough. Shells from Fraser's autocannon burst caught and staggered the Locust.

In a 'Mech battle, hesitation is death. Minobu loosed a blast from his PPC at the wobbling Locust.His body was bathed in sweat as the sudden heat of discharge threatened to overpower the Vindicator'sheat dispersal system. His target had more immediate problems. The hellish energy of the PPC vaporized armor and opened a path to the 'Mech's innards. It crashed to the ground in a shower of sparks and lay immobile. First blood to the rescuers.

With the Stompers gone to ground, Fraser took his 'Mech to cover as well. With the surprise of the first rush gone, the ‘Mech Warriors began a deadly game of tag amid the badlands of Fire Rift. It was a game that the Snake Stompers had played before. They had the homefield advantage, and had used it to ambush the Dragoons' Command Lance. Now they were going to try to use it to destroy two more Dragoon 'Mechs.

As Minobu moved the Vindicatoralong a ravine floor, his microphones caught the roar of autocannon fire and the whoosh of missiles beyond the next hill. Before he could move up, a Locustflying the Stompers' banner from its whip aerial scurried around a bend behind him. The Vindicatorwas caught in the red glare of its laser. The pulses deeply scarred the 'Mech's rear armor, but Minobu's return blast sent the enemy pounding back for cover.

Their enemies were again four in number. At least four, Minobu reminded himself. Any number could be hidden among the twisting valleys. From the battle sounds he could hear, Fraser was engaging two of them.

The new Locusthad disappeared out of sight behind a basaltic column. Minobu took the Vindicatorover a small hillock to stalk it from the next gully over. As he crossed the ridge, he caught sight of the fourth Stomper 'Mech. The Javelinwas climbing a talus slope, scrabbling for a position to fire on the trapped Archer.

The action at one with Minobu's thought, the Vindicator'sright arm lifted. A bolt of blue lightning arrowed toward the Stomper ‘Mech to score on its leading leg. Armor vanished, and with it, some of the myomer pseudomuscles and carballoy structural members it had protected. Off-balance, the 'Mech toppled forward. Missiles arced skyward as it fell, a visual punctuation to the scream that echoed across the open comm frequencies. The Javelinhit the lava crust, broke through, and disappeared beneath the magma.

With the firing of the PPC, the Vindicator'sheat burden soared. Minobu's heads-up display targeting crosshairs flickered and vanished under the heat surge, but he considered it a small price. The Javelinpilot had gone to his ancestors. Every ‘MechWarrior dreaded death by fire, but Minobu thought it a suitable fate for a coward who would strike down a helpless opponent.

The destruction of the Javelinmust have shaken the Stompers. One by one, they broke off stalking the Dragoon 'Mechs. Firing as they went, in retreat not rout, they began to move east. They had lost two, and the situation was now against them. Their BattleMechs were damaged, and the opposition outmassed them significantly. They retreated to fight again, but on a field of their own choosing.

Though Fraser's 'Mech had taken damage, he pursued the enemy, his autocannon roaring. In the confining terrain, the faster machines had been able to outmaneuver him, to strike and escape lightly. He charged on, seeking a kill.

Seeing the enemy in retreat before him, Minobu started to follow as well. A warrior did not let the enemy escape while he was capable of destroying them.

A warrior! The Archer!

Minobu pulled up.

A BattleMech's heat sinks could not long cope with the temperatures of magma. An Archercarried almost five hundred missiles at full load. Certainly, many of them would have been expended in combat. Just as certainly, the rising heat would make an ammunition explosion imminent. Even if only a few missiles were still on board, they would probably be enough to rip the 'Mech to shreds. He could not leave the Archer'spilot to that fate. The Stompers could be fought and killed another day.

Minobu headed for the stranded Archer,which was still struggling feebly to pull itself from the pit. At each attempt, however, more crust crumbled around it. Minobu maneuvered carefully to avoid the same fate.

“Punch out, warrior!” he called over loudspeaker as well as comm unit.

The pilot did not eject. When Minobu reached the edge of the lava flow, he could see why. The Archerhad taken missile hits on the upper torso near the shoulder-mounted missile launcher. Shreds of armor had peeled away and fouled the hatch. The 'Mech's weight was too great for the Vindicatorto pull. The ‘MechWarrior was sealed in a seventy-ton coffin.

Unacceptable. That was no death for a true warrior.

Minobu lowered his 'Mech down to the ground and carefully moved it out onto the crust. The skin of the magma dented beneath the Vindicator'sweight, but did not immediately crack. Minobu knew with every movement that the next one might be a sudden plunge through the crust into the molten rock below the surface. He edged forward ponderously until the Archer'scockpit was within reach of the battlefist on the Vindicator'sleft arm. Angling the right-arm PPC to distribute the 'Mech's weight, Minobu raised the upper torso of his 'Mech.

Ruby light lanced out from the 5cm Ceres Arms laser mounted alongside the Vindicator'shead. Centimeter by centimeter, the coherent light chewed through the heavier 'Mech's armor, outlining the cockpit area. Each centimeter was purchased with increased heat in Minobu's cockpit, edging his own 'Mech closer to shutdown. Following in the path of the laser was the battlefist, exerting incredible pressure and peeling back the weakened ceramet armor. It was slow work. Every moment brought the inevitable ammo explosion closer.

When there was enough space, Minobu closed the fist around the armored compartment that held the pilot. Rocking backward, he tried to pull the cockpit from the foundered 'Mech. The attempt threatened to topple the Vindicatorover the Archerand into the magma. The 'Mech would not give up its warrior.

It took three more tries before the cockpit ripped free. Prize in hand, the Vindicatorinched like a giant crab back away from the crack. As soon as he thought it was safe, Minobu brought his 'Mech to its feet and pounded for cover.

Before he could reach safety, the inevitable finally occurred, and the Archer'smissiles detonated. The pressure wave slapped the Vindicator,sending it flying like a rag doll. Minobu brought his 'Mech's left arm in across its chest and curled the machine around it.