Текст книги "Decision at Thunder Rift"

Автор книги: Уильям Кейт

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

34

The black and gray Marauder'seight-meter legs gave it a tall and spindly look, and its dorsal-mounted autocannon rose a full two meters above Grayson's cockpit Of all the BattleMech designs, Grayson thought the Marauderlooked the most sinister, the most deadly. The movement of scanner antennae on either side of its low-mounted cockpit suggested the twitching mouthparts of some monstrous biped crab. Each arm, with vastly swollen vambrace and gauntlet to accommodate the paired PPCs and lasers, created an image of raw, unstoppable power.

Grayson stared at the apparition with mingled fear and hatred. Challenging a Marauderwith a Shadow Hawkwas a risky business. The Marauderoutweighed him by 20 tons, and its twinned lasers and particle projection cannons seriously outweighed the Hawk'sweaponry. Grayson's advantages, however, would be speed, maneuverabililty, and his consuming need for revenge. That need had grown to such storm-fury that he swung his Hawkabout to fully face the newcomer, urging it forward in a ground-eating trot.

There was a burst of static in his helmet earphones as someone sought his combat frequency. Then he heard the electronic voice of his opponent.

"We knew you would come, Carlyle. We were ready for you."

Grayson did not answer. Giving his weapons systems a last check, he stepped up the feed from his power plant a notch. Control, Grayson told himself. Don't lose control and attack without thinking. He's trying to rattle you. Control...

"My name is Vallendel," the Maraudersaid. "And I've been waiting for you. I'm going to enjoy smashing you and your machine into scrap and bloody pulp. Just like I did to your father..."

At 150 meters, Grayson triggered his autocannon, a long, rolling burst that splattered explosive shells across the Marauder'sback and torso armor. Then he shifted his aim slightly. A Marauder's'weak' points were its head and its legs, but only in comparison to the massive armor of its plastron and arms. Swinging his cannon down, Grayson probed for the complex machinery and control mechanisms at the point where the Marauder'slegs joined to the body. Shells hit home in smoke and flashes, but the Marauderwas moving swiftly now, turning to present a heavily armored profile that deflected Grayson's high-explosive shells with little more than scars and scratches to the plate.

Grayson shoved the control stick all the way forward, feeling the throbbing pound of the Hawk'sfeet against the ferrocrete. Suddenly, the Marauderspun to face him, both arms up. As white fire seared close above the cockpit, Grayson dropped and rolled. His cockpit canopy momentarily went black with polarization.

Then he was up and moving again as cannon shells stitched across the ferrocrete where he had been. He opened fire as he ran, letting the stream of shells sweep across the Marauder'splastron like the rush of water from a hose.

Autocannons and particle projection cannons had a serious disadvantage in close combat. At ranges of less than about 90 meters, it became increasingly hard to keep their fire trained on rapidly moving targets. If Grayson could get in close to where he could use his head-mounted SRMs, he might be able to hit without being hit back – providing, of course, he could keep from being smashed by a physical, 'Mech-to-'Mech attack.

The Marauder'sPPCs fired again, and the Shadow Hawkstaggered as the armor plate on his left arm took the full brunt of the blast. Grayson fired his laser in reply, snapping off two quick shots that the Maraudermerely seemed to absorb without harm to its arm and torso.

The range was down to 50 meters now. Both 'Mechs fired, both missed as they circled searching for an opening. Grayson waited until the Marauderwas facing him full on, then triggered a salvo of SRMs, and loaded and fired again. The heavier 'Mech was snapped back by the blast, but its broad feet lashed out for purchase on the ferrocrete, stabilizers cut in, and somehow the giant remained standing. Twin laser beams boiled steel where earlier damage had reeled back the outer armor of the Shadow Hawk'storso. A red light signaled the loss of another heat sink, and Grayson realized that the 'Mech's interior temperature was already far higher than he could stand for very long.

Circle... fire... miss... fire... hit... circle... The bizarre dance between giants continued, neither machine able to find or win advantage.

Grayson knew he could not continue the dance much longer. Even though neither machine was yet seriously damaged, it was certain that the Maraudercould continue to move and fight longer than could Grayson's Hawk.And when the Shadow Hawkfailed, the end would follow very quickly.

He scanned his console lights, tallying damage. The armor on his left arm was almost gone, some bad holes pocked the Hawk'storso, and the earlier hits to his backpack had knocked out his jumpjets. The worst difficulty was the heat build-up. He'd lost a full quarter of his heat sinks, and the temperature in the cockpit was over 40 degrees. By now the shielded power core must be like an inferno.

The Maraudercharged. Grayson snapped off two shots, then swung around and away, beyond the monster's reach, ripping off an autocannon burst as it thundered past.

"It was stupid of you to come in here alone," Vallendel said, as though the conversation had not been interrupted by brutal bursts of fire. "We've got you right where we want you, now."

We? Grayson stepped back from the Marauder,frantically scanning his imaging screens.

Another huge and humanoid shape was moving alongside a storage warehouse. Zooming in for a telephoto enhancement, Grayson recognized the bulging forearms, the scored and pitted armor of the Crusader.Singh had not been put out of action after all. He had been hiding there all along, waiting for the Marauderto maneuver Grayson into position.

Short-range missiles arrowed in, fragmenting the ferrocrete around the Hawkwith the fury of hellfire. The Shadow Hawkwaded through boiling smoke, tracking this new threat and laying down a pattern of SRMs in reply.

The Maraudercaught him dead center in the lower torso with a blast from one of its PPCs. Grayson's 'Mech staggered forward toward the Crusader,as warning lights screamed of failing systems and dying circuits. He half-turned, struggling for balance, and a pair of missiles smashed into the already damaged backpack.

Grayson and his Shadow Hawktoppled helplessly to the pavement

* * * *

Lori felt a strange and almost peaceful sense of detachment as she watched the black water close over the Locust'scockpit. The air inside the cabin was still stifling, sour with the smells of sweat and fear, but the internal temperature of the 'Mech dropped rapidly in the cold water. She wished she could leave the cockpit to swim in the icy currents, wished she could rid herself of the layers of sweat and grime that caked her body. She didn't dare, though. The enemy would attack again very soon.

Her 'Mech cooled, she guided it sluggishly through the depths and brought it up onto the beach, water cascading from its flanks in imitation of the falls that boomed and roared farther back in the depths of the Rift.

On the beach, astechs swarmed over the carcass of the Wasp.She opened an external speaker. "Ramage? What's the verdict?"

The Trell sergeant looked up at her, touched his ear, and shook his head. The background noise from the waterfall was too loud to permit voice communication, even when amplified. The men on the ground outside had all stuffed clay into their ears, a trick Grayson had taught them during the planning session. Though it made communications difficult, it would save the men's hearing.

She didn't really need Ramage's report anyway. Even from the Locust'scockpit, the damage looked severe. Lori knew it would not fight again – at least not without a major overhaul. The Marauder'sblast had savaged delicate internal systems and control circuits.

Astechs had already stripped the hulk of its laser and missile packs, however, and of every SRM left in the Wasp'sreload packs. Meanwhile, a detail of soldiers was working at the mouth of the cavern, trying to set up a simple fire control system that would let them add the Wasp'ssalvaged weaponry to the firepower they still mustered. Troops and hovercraft had already dragged back the laser from the disabled Stingerat the front line.

"Sergeant! This is Yarin!"

Exhaustion dragged at Lori, made her slow in responding. None of them would be able to hold out much longer.

"What is it?"

"Heat readings... I think."

"The Locuststepped up alongside the Stinger.She shifted through the IR frequencies, the Locust'scomputers picking up fragmentary and inconsistent readings.

The air outside was still cool, though the day was rapidly getting warmer and was already well above freezing. Still, the heat of engines – or of living bodies – ought to be readable enough...

And then they were there. Troops, dozens of them, leaped down from the rocky crags and ridges on either side of the ravine, weapons at their shoulders, firing wildly. Bullets spanged and whined from Lori's armor as she wrenched at the machine gun controls and brought her antipersonnel weapons chattering to life.

They had crept close behind the boulders, she realized, wearing special insulated black combat suits that trapped and masked body heat so that they could sneak close without detection. Almost before she could give the alarm, dozens of enemy soldiers were swarming through the Lancers' defensive perimeter, battling with the Lancer troops at the Locust'sfeet.

Her machine gun fire swept through a line of attacking infantry as they scrambled down a rock escarpment, pitching them into the troops struggling below..She kept firing, but clear targets were hard to find. The black-clad attackers were everywhere, mingled with her own troops too closely to risk a shot.

A missile caught the Locusthigh up on its hull. Reflexively, Lori brought the machine crouching back on its legs, absorbing the shock and keeping the 'Mech on its feet. She took several quick steps backward, getting clear of the fight There had to be a target... had to be...

One lone, black-clad soldier in a heavy, visored helmet stood ten meters away, a heavy, double-barreled weapon at his shoulder. Lori sat rigid in the grip of a paralyzing fear. That trooper was carrying a portable inferno launcher, the same weapon that Grayson had once threatened her with, so very long ago.

She willed her hands to move, to take the machine gun controls and fire. She willed them to move, but failed. Paralyzed, she watched the soldier's finger tighten on the trigger. As the inferno missile fired and exploded, its white fire poured across the Locust'shull in a jellied wave that struck and clung, burning furiously.

Panicked, Lori began screaming, and it was Grayson's name that she shrieked again and again. Then her voice failed as the air inside the cockpit seared her lungs. Smoke curled from the instrumentation, and the hull pinged and sang as violently heated metal plates warped at the center of a fire that approached 1000 degrees.

Her fist slammed down on the ejection switch. Nothing! The circuit was dead, melted by the heat! She hauled around on the con stick and set the Locustrunning. The motion, the blast of air across the burning surfaces, only fanned the flames brighter and hotter.

35

The shock of impact jarred Grayson violently against his seat, but the restraining straps and mercury-core piston mounts absorbed the worst of it. One moment there was a searing pain in his side and head. The next thing he knew, it seemed that time had passed unnoticed. Had he blacked out?

The Hawkwas lying on its side, and Grayson could see the strutting, back-canted legs of Vallendel's Marauderclose beside him. What were they waiting for? He craned his neck to look up through his canopy at the Maraudertowering above him. Vallendel must have thought him dead.

His fingers found a set of hand controls on the arm of his chair. He grasped and hauled them back in a savage, swift motion. The Shadow Hawk'supper leg snapped out in a whistling kick that smashed into the Marauder'sright leg with steel-denting force, knocking the heavier 'Mech to the side in a drunken stagger.

The Shadow Hawkrose to its feet as the Maraudertoppled over in a kind of graceful slow-motion. Grayson fired the laser into the downed 'Mech's leg twice, then swung to cover the Crusader,which was lumbering toward him as fast as it could travel. He fired a salvo of SRMs that missed, but that turned the Crusader'scharge.

It might have been possible – just barely possible – that he could have taken on the Marauderin single combat He was realist enough to know he would never survive if he tried to face both 'Mechs at the same time. Revenge could not be sweet if he didn't live to taste it.

The damage to the Shadow Hawkwas extensive, especially in the back. He worked such repairs as he could manage from the cockpit. Punching the fuel dump, he felt the surge as his supply of liquid mercury reaction mass cascade onto the ground in a spray of silver droplets. Firefighting foam surged through molten circuits, and damaged life support circuits were killed and bypassed as he brought backups on line.

With 200 meters between himself and his enemies, Grayson turned and brought the Crusaderinto his HUD sights, then triggered his autocannon.

But nothing happened. He couldn't tell from his board whether the cannon was destroyed or the ammo feed was fouled, but the mechanisms for both were stored in the Hawk'sshattered backpack. He fired his laser instead, catching the Crusaderclose by the damaged section of its upper left arm.

The Marauderwas on its feet again, apparently not seriously damaged. Even at 200 meters, however, Grayson could see the dent the Hawk'sfoot had left in the Marauder'sright leg, just below the knee. It made the monster move with a distinct limp as it broke into a steady jog in pursuit of Grayson's 'Mech.

Then he too was running, twisting and dodging from side to side as both enemy 'Mechs loosed bolts and missiles at his Hawk.Suddenly, Grayson collided with the side of a storehouse, sending half a wall sliding down in dust and debris as he brushed past. What he needed now was cover, a place where he could separate his foes. A few hundred meters away, the squat, gray-green fuel tanks at the southeast comer of the spaceport beckoned.

The port was not deserted by any means. Black-uniformed soldiers ran singly or in small groups, and numerous hovercraft and wheeled vehicles slipped among the buildings on unknown missions. The only direct threat, however, was the pair of 'Mechs following him now among the orderly rows of storage tanks and the spaghetti tangle of pipes and feeder lines used for refueling grounded ships.

They'd stopped firing at him, but it was no wonder. Grayson had seen the result of laser bolts fired into a tank of liquid hydrogen. The shots left a crater three meters deep.

Could he perhaps trap his enemies in the blast of a hydrogen tank? Though he liked the thought of it, common sense rejected the idea. Burning hydrogen rose very quickly into the sky, restricting its range of destruction. And, though the blast could be enormously destructive, the two 'Mechs were unlikely to stand still while Grayson blazed away at a storage tank close beside them.

Ah, but here was another possibility. On the north edge of the field was a storage tank different from the others. Long and low, it had unusual pump fittings and none of the bulky refrigeration machinery required for storing liquid H. Grayson knew what had been stored in this tank before the raiders had come: aviation fuel for helicopters and the other light aircraft used for transport between the cities of Trellwan. He turned, searching among the H tanks. Though neither 'Mech was visible, he knew they were close, working their way toward him, probably moving along either edge of the hydrogen tank field in hopes of catching him between them.

Grayson slipped his hand into the snug warmth of the gauntlet controls. Flexing his fingers against the light resistance, he watched as the great fingers of the Shadow Hawkflexed and moved in response. BattleMechs equipped with gaundets were capable of considerable dexterity. They could pick up vehicles, crates of supplies, and even people without damaging them.

He closed the gauntlet into a fist, then rammed it home against the fuel tank. The shock of the impact shuddered through the 'Mech's hull. As dark amber liquid gushed from the hole, he stepped back quickly. Aviation fuel was highly flammable, even explosive under the right conditions, and he did not want a chance spark to set it off. He turned and began sprinting northward.

Grayson's rear imager picked out his two pursuers as they emerged around the sides of the tank farm, but well clear of the leaking fuel tank. Both opened fire as soon as they spotted him, apparently unconcerned about the fuel tanks behind them. Though any stray shot of Grayson's might hit one, it took quite a bit to puncture one of the heavily armored H storage tanks.

Were they close enough? Grayson thought. The Crusaderwas moving in now, and was perhaps 20 meters from the tank. But was the Maraudernear enough? There is only one way to find out, he thought, and fired his laser at the aviaton fuel tank.

The fuel on the ground took fire first A wall of flames raced across the ferrocrete, engulfed the tank, then sent an angry orange and black fireball boiling into the morning sky. The impact of the explosion smashed the Shadow Hawkto the pavement, and for long seconds, the ground seemed to tremble with repeated reverberations. When Grayson was able to lift the Hawkpart way up on its arms, he saw that several of the hydrogen tanks had blown as well. The entire northern section of the tank farm had collapsed in a crater of rubble and flame, and the sky had become a dark pall that turned day to an eldricht night lit only by the orange flicker of burning fuel.

The Crusaderlay on its side, one arm torn from its body, its head missing, and the torso shredded like a shoved-in plywood box. The Marauderhad been much farther away from the blast. Though lying prone, it appeared otherwise undamaged. Grayson brought his laser up to cover the inert machine, and began closing the range.

The Hawkscomputer targeted the Marauder'shead, locking the laser through the slowing HUD display.

The static of an open channel rasped in his ear. "GRAY! I'm burning! Gray!"

It was Lori! That was enough to stop Grayson's charge. He hesitated, the Marauderhis for the taking in his HUD sights. In an agony of indecision, he watched the machine stir, sliding one massive forearm under its body.

Again, Lori's screams came through on the Hawk'scombat frequency. Clear and shrill, she cried out, "Grayson! Grayson! I'm burning... Gray!"

The Marauder'spilot was obviously stunned. The giant 'Mech remained down, partly raised on one arm as it tried to get its legs folded enough to bring them under the body to stand up. Grayson could pepper away at the machine all day with his medium laser and might never penetrate that armor. But if he charged, he could batter the Marauderdown, smashing it to pieces the way it had smashed his father's Phoenix Hawk.

He took ten more steps, and picked up a tree-size length of jointed, wire-tangled metal. It had been the Crusader'sarm. With that as a two-handed club, Grayson would batter the Marauderuntil the plastron cracked. He would smash and kick and destroy...

"Gray!" Even through the impersonality of the com circuits, he heard the naked terror in that scream.

With Vallendel at his feet, Grayson hesitated before swinging his twisted metal club. He knew he could never abandon Lori, and flung the club, which spun end for end away from him. Then he swung to the north, pushing his 'Mech to the limit.

36

Five and a half light minutes from Trellwan, Tor sat down at the bridge controls of the freighter Invidious.The enemy Major had indeed managed to get a message off to Trellwan, but fifteen minutes had passed with no reaction from the warship. Tor began daring to believe that the attack at the spaceport had succeeded.

The boarding party had found only eight Combine men aboard, plus all of Tor's remaining crew. The Kuritists had surrendered without a fight when dozens of armed and unarmed men had swum through the bridge hatch. Heavily outnumbered and fearing a laser firefight aboard ship, they preferred to wait and see whether the warship would send forces to rescue them. Now the Combine personnel were locked away below.

General Varney squinted at the main viewscreen, which was centered on the blackness of the Invidious'jump sail. "How do you know it's coming in?"

"I know," Tor said, indicating a bank of lights. "But it'll take some time."

"Is our... ah... friend out there going to know we're up to something?"

"Possibly, General, but that sail is awfully hard to see, even on radar. They'd have to be a lot closer to actually see the sail being furled."

Slowly, majestically, the kilometer-wide disk of black metal and plastic collapsed upon itself under the tugs of computer-directed guys and running lines. And in the JumpShip's core, the Kearny-Fuchida hyperspace field generators were channelling energies gathered and stored during the preceding weeks by the face of the jump sail turned toward Trellwan.

After several minutes, as power built within the ship's slender core, Tor turned to Varney with an apologetic smile. "Of course, there isthe possibility they'll pick up our emissions. If they're on their toes over there, they'll know we're getting ready to jump."

"What happens then?"

"I guess we won't know that till it happens."

* * * *

Something smashed into the side of Lori's flaming Locustwith the force of a falling mountain, pitching her against the cockpit's restraining straps as the machine toppled over on its side. There was a splash, followed by a fountain of steam and white smoke. Viscous, flaming liquid spread across the surface of the water, but the 'Mech's partly submerged hull cooled quickly. Shaken, Lori brought the Locustclumsily to its feet. Yarin's Stingerstood next to her, waist-deep in the smoking water.

"Th... thank you," she told him.

The Stingerwaved for answer, then turned and waded ashore. The Lancers' hovercraft had rallied, and the attackers, which had not numbered more than fifteen or 20 were pulling back, leaving their dead scattered in heaps on the sand. Several others kneeled on the sand, clutching at their ears. The noise in the cavern mouth must have caught them all by surprise, helping to disorient them.

Lori checked her 'Mech for damage. One machine gun was out, whether melted or bent in the fall, she couldn't tell. Most of the ammunition had cooked off on that side of her 'Mech, so it was possible that exploding machine gun rounds had damaged the gun. She had only three heat sinks left, and that was more serious. With only three operational heat exchangers, the Locustwould overheat the first time she fired its laser – unless she could finish the battle hull-deep in the lake.

Perhaps now was the time to pull out. They could abandon the 'Mechs here, and make their way through the caverns to the north, following the maps Grayson had left them. With their ammunition running so perilously low, soon they would haveto retreat, if they didn't want to be overrun.

But what about Grayson? Was it possible he was still alive. If so, wouldn't he have long since arrived to join them? Lori didn't know whether or not he'd been able to destroy the spaceport antenna, or whether he'd been destroyed himself before getting a chance. When they'd planned this battle, they had assumed that Lori would be able to see the spaceport from her position at the mouth of the Rift, and be able to tell when the antenna mast was blown. Radio silence was considered more important than a needless announcement by Grayson that his task was complete. But the Lancers had been driven all the way back inside the Rift now, and any 'Mech or human visible at the entrance drew fire from the encircling Combine forces.

Lori suddenly found her hands trembling uncontrollably – probably a delayed reaction to her terrifying brush with death. She fought to control the trembling, glad no one could see her at the moment.

Ramage was in his hovercraft, com set on his head. She opened a channel. Keep your voice steady, Kalmar! she told herself. "Sergeant Ramage?"

"Yes, Sarge? Are you O.K.?"

"Fine, Ramage. I'm fine." The shaking faded gradually, leaving her limp and weak. "What's the supply situation?"

"Not good. We've distributed the last of the ammo to the troops, and there aren't any more reloads for the 'Mechs. We have enough food for a week, maybe. No shelter, but it's warm enough right now.

"We'll definitely need shelter, though, if Captain Tor didn't get through. It will be cold by the middle of Firstnight. I don't know what we'll do then. If we don't surrender, the cold will kill us all."

Lori wondered if they shouldn't just give up now. She could see the enemy's 'Mechs moving at the bottom of the ravine, forming for another attack. The Combine 'Mechs had been bloodied, but so far only one heavy had been positively destroyed. The rest had damage that would be completely repaired in a few hundred hours. The thought was discouraging. Every hit made the Lancers' forces weaker. At best, their own scores seemed only to slow the enemy temporarily.

Lori rubbed her eyes savagely with her hands, struggling to keep awake. There were just too many of them to hold off any longer. Two badly damaged, 20-ton 'Mechs simply could not keep the fight going. She was more tired than she'd ever been. It was an effort just to grasp the conning stick and move the battered Locusta few steps forward.

Ramage was still there, waiting.

"We're going to have to retreat, Sergeant. Retreat or give it up now."

Ramage looked uncertain. "What about the Lieutenant?"

"He's dead, or he would've been here by now."

"Sarge!" That cry burst onto the com frequency, interrupting them. It was a scout Ramage had posted on the ridge with binoculars and a radio. "Sarge, they're coming again! All of them!"

Their men and machines turned to face the ravine once more. Somehow, Lori found the willpower to drive the Locustinto position, to squat the machine down in firing position. The first LRMs came arching over from the bottom of the slope, bursting behind and in front of them and among the rocks and cliffs on either side.

"Hold your fire, people," she cautioned on the general combat circuit. How many could still hear her? "Save it till you can make it count."

Then the enemy rushed up the hill, the Marauderthat had killed Garik in the lead. Lori opened fire on that machine, hitting it again and again! Smoke trailed now from a crater in the Marauder'sflank, and the autocannon perched on its back was a smashed and broken ruin. But it kept coming.

An HVWC on Lori's right took a direct hit from a Wolverine'sturret laser, and a reload pack of SRMs erupted with a flash and a blast that disintegrated the hovercraft. Two soldiers crouching nearby were jerked forward by the explosion and lay broken and still behind the earthworks. The rest of the Lancer troops held their ground, using their shoulder-fired missile launchers and hand flamers to deadly effect Three tracked vehicles were already in flames, their crews dead, and the Shadow Hawkwas down with a crippled right leg.

But the others kept coming, but very slowly, as though forcing their way against a hurricane blast. The roar of exploding warheads blended with the steady drumming of the waterfall at the Lancers' backs.

Laser hits savaged the Stinger,blasting away external antennae and chunks of armor. The Duke's men were concentrating their fire on one machine. Lori knew that once the Stingerwas knocked out, it would be her turn. The Stingerstood up, wobbling jerkily, smoke pouring from a smashed side hull panel.

"Yarin! Get down!"

But the Stingerwas advancing, its pilot oblivious to Lori's commands.

Maybe his radio's gone, she thought. Or he's panicked. Then it hit her that this might be his way of facing defeat She had been thinking of retreat or surrender. But he...

The Stingertook a PPC hit full in its chest. As though time were frozen, Lori's mind held the image of Yarin's 'Mech crashing backward, arms spread, into the water.

But for three surviving weapons carriers and a handful of men crouched behind the shallow earthworks and laser-charred boulders, her Locustwas alone now. She kept firing, but the Marauderwas almost on her now. Range 60 meters... now 40... now 20...

Just as the attacking 'Mechs drew together at the Rift's entrance, explosions ripped into them. In a moment, the enemy's ranks were in chaos as missiles arced down from the green-tinged sky with blast after blast that echoed and re-echoed from the faces of the Rift walls.

Ramage was standing on the engine cover of his hovercraft, waving his TK wildly. Lori caught his shouts through her external mikes. "The Lieutenant! It's the Lieutenant!"

Then she saw the Shadow Hawk.Though scarred, battered, and scored by laser burns, it was undeniably Grayson's 'Mech scrambling along the ridge to the east of the ravine. From that angle, LRMs came whistling down among the Duke's 'Mechs, but could not pass beyond and into the cavern mouth. The opening to the Rift was momentarily curtained off by hurtling earth and gravel, and the deafening blasts drowned out even the roar of the waterfall.

Three missiles caught the Marauderon the back and side, opening wider the gashes already torn into the armor plate. Its right arm now lay twisted and smoking on the cavern's sandy floor.

The Marauderturned then, almost sadly. It fired with its surviving PPC and laser at Grayson's Shadow Hawk,but it missed. With that, it began a shambling run back down the ridge, black smoke fuming from its hull. The surviving Combine 'Mechs broke then, each hurrying down the slope to safety, pursued by a dozen crawlers and disorganized bands of soldiers. At the top of the ridge, the Lancers began standing, slowy, dazedly, while the remaining Combine troops dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender. But Lori only had eyes for Grayson's scarred Shadow Hawklimping to the crest of the ridge.