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[Nightmare1]

Greetings! This is the official fan-fiction thread for the War Hounds Mercenary Corps. Our members will use it to post personally written stories fictionalizing their favorite MWO battles. Please keep any feedback within the bounds of the forum's Code of Conduct and enjoy!

[Nightmare1]

This is Part 1 of the Combine Invaders series. Still trying to work out the kinks in this posting business. Anyone know how to just upload a Microsoft Word file? I can find my media library, but I can't figure out how to upload to it.

Anyways, the Combine Invader series is actually a series of fights I have experienced on MWO. Some names may have been changed to respect gamers' rights, and the dialogue is fictionalized along with any other obvious machinations such as exploding reactors, ships sailing around the harbor in River City, or snow-covered Mechs. However, the BattleMechs involved, numbers, maps, and descriptions of the fights themselves including Mech loadouts, damage incurred, maneuvers, and firing patterns are all real. Please enjoy!

Last Man Standing

Sweat rolled down my face as the heat spiked in my cockpit. My sapphire pulse lasers burned away more armor from the enemy Mech while emerald and ruby beams stabbed into its interior, melting the Endosteel skeleton and vaporizing myomer muscles. The enemy Mech wavered for a moment before the cockpit split open as the enemy pilot’s command couch ejected. The ravaged hulk that remained shuddered and then slumped over against the cliff wall.

My call sign is Nightmare1 and I’m a MechWarrior.

When I was recruited, I tested out at the Heavy Mech level. My superiors thought that I showed potential for the Assault class as well, but I disliked the low mobility associated with Mechs of that class, and declined further testing. Then war broke out between the great Houses of the Inner Sphere and choice became a vanishing luxury. That window into the Assault class became closed to me as more seasoned pilots were given control of it, and even the Heavy class of Mechs became difficult to obtain. I settled for a Hunchback 4G. It’s a fifty ton lopsided box that doesn’t look like much and it’s definitely not a fast Mech either. Even some Assaults can outrun it. It doesn’t have the armor to go toe-to-toe in a slugging match and it lacks the jump jets of other, similarly classed Mechs. It’s mine though and I call it Ravager. What drew me to it was the massive gun muzzle jutting forward over its right shoulder. Hunchbacks are essentially walking cannons. The entire BattleMech is built around its AC-20 Autocannon, which is the heaviest bore weapon in any Inner Sphere arsenal. It doesn’t have the range of a Gauss Rifle, but it packs significantly more power up close. The Hunchback’s lack of speed makes it something of a kamikaze Mech; a feature that initially made me wary of piloting it. Basically, the Hunch sits back behind friendly lines, usually with one of the slower Assault Mechs, and waits for enemy medium and light Mechs to attempt a flanking maneuver. When they come zipping in, intent on the rear attack on aforesaid Assault, the Hunch mows them down with its heavy bore AC-20. If in a frontal assault, it follows the more heavily armored Mechs into the fray. Once they engage, it steps out from behind them and drives forward into the enemy lines, shredding the opposition with its AC-20 and dealing as much damage as possible before enemy Mechs can target it. It is designed as a solid attack Mech. Its slow speed prevents it from being able to withdraw or keep up with retreating friendly forces. Thus the kamikaze reference; you engaged knowing that it was nearly always a death-run unless the enemy lines were broken. Though slow, it has good handling features and a wide angle of attack. A skilled pilot can really put some moves on enemy Mechs and cause a lot of hurt.

I really wish that was what I was piloting today.

Don’t get me wrong. The Mech I was in right now was a good one that I had personally chosen and outfitted. It just wasn’t my first choice of Mech. I also could not have known at the time just what we would be getting into out here…but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Though currently employed by the Kell Hounds, I’m originally of House Davion which means that I don’t get along too well with House Kurita. Kurita is a warrior society that we call The Snakes because of their dragon crest. Love them or hate them, you have to respect them; they’re fighting fools. My unit was stationed on a backwater border world, the name of which is still classified as is this event. What you are about to read never happened. For now, just call it the Forest Colony Incident.

We were awakened from sleep by the unpleasant sound of our warning system, signaling that enemy Dropships were burning in through the atmosphere. It was a raiding party, one of many that came across the border. Our job was to stop them from getting past the planet. Though the planet itself lacked any significant targets, its position made it a necessary stop for any group of raiders. If they didn’t try to hamstring us on their way into Davion space, then we could send up fighters to meet them on their way back home and finish off whatever our brothers in arms had left alive. As a rule, Kurita raids in our area of space were not successful due to the heavily fortified nature of the nearby targets. Our planet though was not fortified because of its proximity to Kurita space. Any attempts to do so would have provoked open hostilities and warfare. Instead, the planet was left with just a small garrisoning force, just enough to taunt the Snakes but not enough warrant anything more than an occasional “unsanctioned” raid. You could say that it acted as a kind of safety relief valve for the two Houses. They could discreetly air out their grievances without engaging in full conflict. Kurita’s up-and-coming would get a chance to test their mettle against us while we, well, we just got to kill Snakes.

Ravager was still being repaired from the last raid.

That meant I had to choose from one of my other two BattleMechs, both of which were Hunchbacks. Oh yes, I personally owned three Hunchbacks. I had been so successful with Ravager, even to the point of hunting down and killing Heavy class Mechs on a regular basis and occasionally confronting an Atlas and winning, that I had been given quite a bit of preference by my superiors. I had not been in the service long enough for a promotion, and they couldn’t just give me a BattleMech when I wanted one, but I was given first preference when I did make such a request and I was allowed to *purchase* them at greatly reduced prices. Other MechWarriors took note and lodged complaints, but my superiors knew not to mess with a good thing.
Their intuition was about to pay off in a much bigger way than any of us had anticipated.

We had a pretty standard way of dealing with Snake raids. Saddle up, contain, confront, and then salvage anything left from the fight. Since these were typically green troops, their equipment was usually second-rate and beating them was never a problem. It actually became a rather mundane experience after a while. Still, it was considered a high-risk zone, so the pay was good and none of us complained. Today was different though.
Our forces arrayed themselves on opposite ends of a small lake through which a river flowed. They had already sunk a container ship in the middle of the channel to provide some cover for themselves from our gauss rifles. We set up our command post and then, as if on signal, both of our groups moved forward, driven by an impetus beyond our ken to smash and to kill each other and our Mechs. The Snakes were eager while we, well, we were careless.

I was piloting a Hunchback 4P that I called Sizzler. It was the energy-based version of Ravager, and was armed with two, arm-mounted Large Pulse Lasers, a head-mounted Medium Laser, and a Small Laser in its right torso. It also possessed an AMS system and had a top speed of 64.8 kph. I had upgraded it so that it held 14 Double Heat Sinks and 338 points of Ferro-Fibrous Armor with a Cool Shot 9 coolant system. It wasn’t a bad Mech at all…it just didn’t have any Slam Factor.

Slam Factor is a term I coined to describe a Mech or weapon’s ability to shake up your target. Imagine that you’re at a gun range with an ***** friend who doesn’t know the first thing about firearm safety. Just as you are squeezing off your shot, he decides that it would be funny to poke you in the ribs. You jerk in surprise and your perfectly aimed shot sends up a plume of sand somewhere in the vicinity of your target, while the cardboard silhouette remains unblemished. You just experienced a mild form of slam factor. Now imagine that you are piloting an enemy Mech and I am your target. As you drift your crosshairs over me and allow them to settle on my Hunch’s profile, you smile a little smugly and gently depress the firing stud. However, even as your thumb sends the signal to fire your weapons, my AC-20 round punches a hole in the torso of your Mech, rending armor and skeleton and forcibly shaking your BattleMech as you suddenly find yourself fighting to maintain target discipline. Your shot goes wild, sending up sprays of dirt, arcing harmlessly over the battlefield or, horror of horrors, striking one of your fellow lance mates in his lightly armored rear torso. That’s Slam Factor and Sizzler just doesn’t have it.

As the BattleMech fell against the rocky cliff wall, I dashed the back of my hand across my forehead to wipe the sweat from my eyes.

“Sitrep!”

No answer. They were still jamming our radio communications. A Jaegermech trundled up next to me as I began doing a visible head count. Both combat teams in this fight had eight Mechs apiece. From my elevated vantage point, I was able to count three of our Mechs as their smoking hulks lay on the shore, while I could see at least six of the Kurita Mechs scattered around the lake.

“Well, well,” I muttered, “This wasn’t so bad after all.”

Suddenly, the static from my radio burst into a frenzy as our command post somehow managed to force a message through the blanket jamming.
“Stand by…restor…mini…ctions…IFF and…dar…”

I lost the radio signal, but my IFF and radar came back to life. Targets immediately lit up on its screen, and I saw that we had five functioning Mechs to their two. One of their survivors was engaged with one of ours near the Snake’s command post. I started to point my Hunchback in that direction, but saw a relatively fresh Catapult already en route. The other Kurita Mech was a Centurion, and it was on a beeline for our unguarded command center. I instantly swung my Hunchback toward our post, and starting pounding my way up the shore. Ahead, I could see a friendly Centurion moving to head-off the Kurita pilot, while the Jaegermech trundled after it. I figured that we had this one easy. The enemy Centurion was showing moderate damage across all armor readings, so I thought that this was going to be a lot of overkill. I toyed with the idea of going after the other target, but figured that since I was so slow, I should stick with the closer Centurion. Besides, two on one should be enough, considering the fact that one of our Mechs was a fresh Catapult.

I saw the enemy Centurion mount the hill that our command post was behind even as my lance Centurion ran around the corner of a rocky projection to confront the Snake pilot head-on. The Jaegermech wasn’t far behind. I ground my teeth as I agonized over the slowness of my Hunchback. I dearly wanted the kill, but would have settled for just scorching armor. I hated the thought of never even getting into the fight before it finished.

Seconds ticked past as I continued to trudge towards the post. I had lost the enemy Centurion’s signal due to the rock formations, but I could tell that he was still alive and fighting from the glow of weapon discharges that were reflected by the high rock cliff. Finally, I reached the rocky outcropping that marked the entrance to our command post. As I cleared it, a sight greeted my eyes that stunned me completely. Even as I brought my targeting reticule to rest on the enemy Centurion, its armor readings red across the board as smoke poured from rents in its torso and green coolant oozed down its sides like blood, the Snake pilot unleashed a salvo into the unprotected rear of my lance Centurion. It fell into a drilling rig, its cockpit ramming forward into the superstructure as the pilot desperately tried to eject and was crushed to death.

Feeling sick in my stomach, I lined up my shots and triggered them off rapidly…only to snatch my reticules aside to avoid hitting the Jaegermech as it charged across my line of fire. I watched, dumbfounded, as it drove completely between us, narrowly missing the Centurion and then coming to a stop on top of the hillock. I brought my weapons back on target, but the Centurion darted behind the rig. I did not want to risk hitting the rig in case there were still civilians aboard it. Besides, any damage may result in pieces flying off into the command post. I was reduced to chasing the Centurion around the rig, snapping quick shots when they presented themselves and checking my fire angrily whenever the Jaegermech madly charged between us. Finally, when I was nearly at my wits’ end, the Centurion found itself on my side of the rig with only a short space separating us. My lasers finished charging as I threw down on its center torso. Even as I triggered off my weapons, however, the Jaegermech pilot flung his Mech between us again. My lasers briefly stabbed into his unprotected back before I jerked them off target. I was almost screaming into the dead radio in frustration. What was wrong with him? I had the Centurion dead to rights, the fight was finished! Why did he keep putting himself between us? I mentally made a note to find out who the pilot was when we arrived back at base. He needed a good bawling out by someone.

To my surprise, he actually connected head-on with the Centurion. The heavier Jaegermech body-slammed the ravaged Kurita Mech and caved in its chest. The Centurion seemed to just fold inward around the Jaegermech as it continued to drive the lighter Mech backwards until they were brought to a sudden stop by a sheer, rocky side of the hillock. The Jaegermech then carefully extracted itself from the ruins of the Centurion.

The Snake pilot didn’t make it.

About that time, the radio crackled to life, “Striker One this is Base Command, over.”

“This is Striker One, go ahead.”

“Radio functionality restored. They had a jamming unit hidden in the cliffs, but our infantry smoked them out. You need to coordinate with the surviving Hammer Lance pilot to find and eliminate the last Kurita raider. He defeated both of your other two Mechs, so be careful. We suspect that one lance of raiders was comprised of Genyosha, and that the surviving pilot is a member of that lance. We are unable to locate him in the rocks. Careful hunting to you both. Command, out.”

I opened a comm-link to the Jaegermech, “Did you get all that?”

“Aff lead,” was the reply, “My apologies for the crazy piloting. I’m completely out of ammo. Ramming the Snake was the only option I had open.”

“Nevermind about it, just make sure you don’t cross my LOF anymore.”

“Roger that. I’ll try to run cover and give you a chance to get first shot on the enemy Mech. I won’t be much help in the fight though.”

“Roger, Striker One over and out.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Whatever we were up against was piloted by a talented individual, a Genyosha. He had bested two of our Mechs, one of which was pretty fresh. That, plus the fact that he was a Genyosha, meant he had to be a Heavy class Mech. I shuddered slightly at the thought of facing a Genyosha pilot. The Genyosha were a crack unit of Heavy BattleMechs in the Kurita armed forces. Far from green recruits, they were considered to be some of the most deadly warriors in the Draconis Combine…and this one had a fresh Mech. My own armor readings were showing moderate damage across the board. Sighing, I started moving Sizzler down the shoreline. We had it to do, so we might as well get on with it.
The Jagermech followed a respectful distance behind me. Despite its lack of fighting ability, it was still not a good idea to bunch up while hunting. Besides, if we were lucky, the Snake pilot would think that I was acting as scout for the heavier and, supposedly, more threatening Heavy.

Well, that plan lasted all of five minutes.

I had just reached a very open stretch of beach where the rocky cliffs drove forward, forcing me out of the hills and passages at their feet. I would be exposed about a hundred and fifty meters, a fact that I disliked intensely. As I rounded the cliff and began my run across the open space, the rock wall created a partition that broke the Jaegermech’s LOS on me. It also interfered with the radar.

My radio cracked to life suddenly, “Being flanked by a Cat-”

Static.

For what seemed like an eternity, the only sound was that of Sizzler, pounding its way up the coast towards the safety of the rocks. A Cat? That meant either a Catapult of a Cataphract. They were both bad news for me, although the Catapult was the preferable combatant if I could lure it into the rocks. Its LRMs would be useless, giving me a definite advantage over the Genyosha pilot.

At that moment, the radio came back to life, “Striker One, this is Hammer One. I don’t have much time. Mech’s dead, am using shortwave I kept in my command couch. Snake is a K2, repeat, a K2! It’s armed with lots of PPC. Armor is fresh, I never had a chance. You have to make a headshot kill to beat it!”

“Acknowledged Hammer One, are you on a safe escape vector, over?”

“Yes, forget about me. Find cover! I’m…fting…t…rang…”

The radio went silent again and I tried to swallow. My mouth felt dry and hollow. A Catapult K2 was bad news for me. The K2 load out was a unique tactic for Catapult pilots. It forsook the stereotypical missile load-outs in favor of energy-based weapon systems. Its signature feature was a set of dual, arm-mounted PPCs that were devastating at long range. My maximum range was about 450 meters. The K2 had roughly double that with its PPCs. Hammer One had said that its armor was pretty fresh, and that I would need to kill it with a headshot. While not impossible, that was going to be very difficult. I would need an edge.

While all of this was flitting through my mind, a warning bell went off the back of my head. About that time, the cliff wall gave way to broken outcroppings of rock and ugly hillocks. I spun my torso to look behind me and my blood ran cold. The K2 was sitting at the promontory of rock that had separated me from Hammer One. The Genyosha pilot seemed to casually line up his shots and I could almost feel his crosshairs caress the exposed back of Sizzler. I spun my torso back around and snapped the Hunchback hard over towards the nearest opening in the rocks, even as the enemy pilot fired off his salvo of PPCs. My quick action saved Sizzler, but I still took a beating. Instead of drilling through the minimal armor covering my rear torso, the PPCs skipped across the back of all three torsos, inflicting severe damage but failing to breach my armor. The next instant found me weaving in and around the rocks and hills as I worked closer to the enemy command post. My mind raced as I fabricated and discarded plan after plan. The simple fact was that I was grossly outmatched. This K2 was obviously modified from the typical K2 model. It had hit me harder than a standard should, and a second glimpse I had of it later showed that it moved faster too. It was definitely faster than Sizzler. I had to find a place to stand and fight, or he would run me down and shoot into my savaged rear torsos.

I was beginning to run out of places to hide. The rocks interfered with our radars and kept us from pinpointing each other’s locations, but I was rapidly coming to another open area. To cross it would be to die. To my left, the ground opened up again. There was a short open space in the rocks, and then a passage that doubled back the way I had come. It was the break I needed. If I could make it across the twenty meters of open space without the Snake pilot seeing me, then I would be able to flank him and possibly turn the tables on my hunter. As I reached the edge of the opening, my radar warning system pinged to life. I had been targeted, but it was too late to change course. My momentum carried me forward into the open. Gnashing my teeth, I pushed Sizzler harder than I ever had before, driving it across the open space in a desperate flight. Just when I thought that I had made it to safety, PPCs slammed into my left leg. Alarms sounded madly as Sizzler staggered behind the rocky covering of the next hill. I cringed when I saw the damage. My left leg was basically gone. The skeleton was mangled and fused, while the myomer muscles were largely vaporized. In the briefest of instants, the leg had been turned into a near-useless stump, and my top speed had been reduced to nearly an infant’s crawl.

I could still win this.

The mad little thought nibbled at my mind. Looking back, I’m sure that it was a sign of my crazed desperation, but sometimes it is such desperation that guarantees victory. I like to think this was especially true in this particular instance.

As I limped my crippled Mech around the hill, I spotted a place where part of the cliff-like wall had broken apart and tumbled down, making a kind of vantage point. A crazy idea formed in my head. It was so insane that it just might work. I carefully maneuvered my Hunchback up the tumbled hillside until I sat on top of the rocky projection. It was a small miracle in itself that my ruined leg had stood the abuse. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming myself and forcing myself to focus on the next few minutes of my life as if it were the last few I would experience on earth…which might well have been true.

In my mind’s eye, I played the scenario I was expecting over and over until I knew each and every move I was going to make and how exactly I would perform it. This had to be done exactly right the first time; I wouldn’t get a second chance.

Pretty soon, I felt the dull foot falls of the approaching K2. It came right through the opening in the rocks through which it had disabled my leg, exactly as I had planned. It also gave me a bit of a gift that I had not expected – the pilot was facing the wrong direction! I had a new advantage and briefly toyed with the idea of firing into its weak rear armor. My discipline triumphed though, and I instead targeted the K2 with my computer system. I knew that doing so would alert the Genyosha pilot to my presence, but I had to know what I was up against. The armor readings flickered onto my screen and my heart sank. The rear of the K2 was perfectly sound. Firing into it would be a wasted effort. The rest of the K2 was showing damage on all parts, but it was fairly slight compared to the damage Sizzler had sustained. Hammer One was right. I would have to win with a kill shot.

The K2, alerted to my presence, swung towards me. I exhaled slowly and lined up my sights on the cockpit. My thumbs depressed the firing studs, and my sapphire pulse lasers stabbed forward. The pulses hit across the cockpit, melting and splashing armor from it. I carefully tracked the cockpit as the Mech continued to swing towards me, and then added my medium and small lasers to the mix. Emerald and ruby joined the sapphire as they drilled into the cockpit armor. For a full second, my hopes rose triumphantly as I steadily maintained my target discipline. The large pulse lasers finished cycling first, followed almost immediately by the medium and small lasers. The K2 kept moving, its cockpit awash in melted armor and pockmarks, but intact just the same. I had failed. Well, I wasn’t dead yet and I still had one more trick up my sleeve.

During my attack, the K2 had never stopped moving forward. It swung its PPCs to bear on me as it began to pass, and I could almost feel the crosshairs settling on Sizzler and sense the wolfish smile playing on the Genyosha pilot’s face. I waited for one long, awful moment and then stepped forward.

I fell.

The K2 fired.

All of the PPCs missed.

The ball was back in my court. Stepping off the rock had allowed me to fall a distance roughly equal in height to my Mech. The Snake had aimed at my upper torso, probably thinking that it would finish me once and for all. Instead, I had dropped at the same instant that he fired. His PPCs snarled past overhead, narrowly missing my own cockpit. My greatest fear when pulling this stunt was that Sizzler’s ruined left leg might not hold up to the abuse. The fears proved unfounded however, as the leg not only held up, but failed to sustain any additional damage. Beaming with pride in my Mech’s performance, I swung towards the rear of the K2.

The Snake pilot had slowed and was turning to face me again as I sat and waited. He completed his turn, and we stood facing each other with only about fifty meters separating us. There was an unspoken understanding between us that this was it, the final act. My crosshairs settled on his cockpit, but I held my fire and waited. I only had one shot, and it had to be the kill shot. I gently goosed my joysticks, finessing my target window until I had it exactly the way that I wanted it. I exhaled slowly and then depressed the firing studs. The large pulse lasers whipped out from Sizzler, there sapphire pulses impacting the Snake’s cockpit. The armor washed away again, running down the sides of the plane-like body until it collected in heavy drops that fell away from its undercarriage. After a moment, I added my medium and small lasers to the pulses. Once again, ruby and emerald joined with sapphire to make a brilliantly beautiful display of color as the beams stabbed into the cockpit. I unconsciously held my breath as I mentally ticked off the seconds until the K2’s PPCs finished their charging cycle. At the exact moment that I estimated the PPCs had finished charging, my large pulse lasers completed their firing cycle, my weapon indicators showed the medium and small lasers were on the verge of shutting off, and the K2’s cockpit erupted in a brief flash of flame and smoke.

I did it. I made the kill the shot.

The K2 sat there for a moment before slowly toppling forward onto its face. The cockpit smoked slightly and I felt a twinge of remorse.
“I am sorry,” I said aloud into the silence of my cockpit, “but I had no choice. Consider it an honor and a compliment that I was forced into such a situation. You were too good for me to defeat any other way, and I harbor no antagonism towards you.”

I turned my mauled Hunchback towards our command post and began the slow process of limping back uphill to it. With my left hand, I reached over and flipped my radio on, “Command, this is Striker One, over.”

“This is Command, go ahead,”

“Command, all targets are neutralized, repeat, all targets are neutralized. My Mech is the only survivor. Request immediate support, over.”

“Roger that, Dropships and salvage teams en route. ETA fifteen minutes, over.”

“10-4, Striker One clear at 0800 hours.”

I sighed and then relaxed into my cockpit chair as the tenseness melted out of me. Another day, another dollar, and another raid stopped. This had been a pretty close fight and we had lost some good men. Usually it was only the Mechs that were killed, not the pilots. This particular engagement had been a bit more vindictive than usual. Was it a foretaste of what was to come?

No matter. Whatever happened, my Hunchbacks and I would be ready to hold the line until I was the last man standing.

Edited by Nightmare1, 18 October 2013 - 08:51 AM.

[Nightmare1]

This is Part 2 of the Combine Invaders Series. More to follow soon!

The Fall of River City

“This is Jumper One at Checkpoint Epsilon. We’re being overrun! Falling back to Theta.”

Before the channel was closed, I heard the detonation of a BattleMech reactor core, and knew in my gut that the speaker had perished. My grip on the controls tightened as my Mech trudged towards the shipyards, and I felt tears moisten my eyes as I looked around me.

River City…once the jewel of this planet, was in ruins. The buildings which reached up to brush the sky were ablaze like torches. Gaping holes showed in their sides and the streets were strewn with rubble and debris. A small bridge lay crumbled on the ground, and much of the park areas were burned and blistered.

“What have we done to you?”

I dashed the tear from my eye and increased the throttle. I had to reach the docks. That was our fallback point. I saw on my radar that the enemy Mechs were gathering near Theta for a final push. We had to defend Gamma long enough for the ships to escape.

Then it would be every man for himself.

“Badger, this is Nightmare1, what’s your status?”

“We’re holding on the outskirts of town. Just a few more refugees to recover and then we’ll lead the convoy into the mountains, over.”

“Any word on reinforcements?”

“Negative, we’re on our own.”

“Roger that Badger, Nightmare1 out.”

I sighed as I picked my way through down the ruined bridge from Point Kappa. That had been my zone to defend. My partner, a Raven, ran along beside me as we made our way to Gamma.

“Captain Harcourt, this is Nightmare1, what’s your status?”

“We’ve nearly finished with the loading and our ships are almost ready to depart. We just need a few more minutes, over.”

“Roger that Captain, we’ll do the best we can. Nightmare1, out.”

We reached the still intact harbor and began moving towards the river itself. The flames from the far shore cast a glow on the darkening cloud cover. Other Mechs could be seen falling back to our position. Our numbers were pitifully few.

My mind drifted back for a moment to when this all began.

We were stationed on a border world, a hotspot of combat activity between two Great Houses of the Inner Sphere. We were a part of the Kell Hounds Mercenary Force under contract by the Federated Suns. Our job was to halt raiding parties coming across our border from the Draconis Combine.

Everything was pretty routine since most of the raiders were raw recruits that the Combine wanted to season. However, there finally came a raid that was partially comprised of Genyosha. The Genyosha are a crack unit of heavy BattleMech pilots, and are deadly combatants. We weren’t expecting them, and were badly surprised by their presence. When the smoke cleared, my Hunchback, Sizzler, was barely standing…and I was the last man standing overall.

Before we had time to lick our wounds, a full-scale invasion of the planet began. It turns out that the raid was simply a test of our true strength and an attempt to weaken us. Well, it worked. The invaders swept us aside and forced us back into the more civilized areas of the planet, away from the frequented and preferred zones of combat.

River City was one such area.

I was part of an eight-Mech drop. Our mission was to buy time for the evacuation of the city. The enemy had already established another eight-Mech force on the far bank, and showed no signs of giving up their beachhead. We had three chokepoints to defend: Epsilon, Kappa, and Theta.
Our final point, the dockyards, was labeled Gamma. We were to hold Gamma at all costs until the ships had time to escape with their cargos of refugees, troops, materials, and much-needed supplies.

Our own force had been a ragtag group that was cobbled together from the remnants of our defense group. Some of us were raw recruits that had shipped in one step ahead of the invasion. Our intel, on the other hand, suggested that we were faced with crack units that included Genyosha. I knew from the start that this would go badly for us.

I hate being right.

They had swept down on us, raining death with their weaponry as our units, spread out to cover multiple points, tried to weather the storm. A Point of Mechs had been sent to Epsilon while I was paired with the Raven and ordered to defend Kappa. Our other four Mechs had gathered at Theta, the main artery by which the enemy would attack.

The Point of Light Mechs at Epsilon had been overwhelmed. We had held Kappa, barely, killing a Centurion in the process and forcing the Snakes back across the river. But now we were battered and could not maintain our position without the risk of being cut-off from our main force at Theta. And so, we fell back to Gamma and moved from there to assist at Theta. We were just in time to meet a second Centurion as it came from Epsilon. The Raven and I met it head-on, battling it in an intricate dance of loops and spins as the AC-20 on my shoulder spouted destruction as quickly as it would reload. The Raven lent me its SRM support, and together we quickly felled the Combine Mech.

I was piloting a Hunchback 4G that I called “Ravager.” It is my personal favorite in the Hunchback class of Mechs, and is armed with the standard two medium lasers and AC-20 autocannon. I had made a few personal adjustments though, and Ravager now sported 320 points of Ferro Fibrous Armor, 13 Double Heat Sinks, and a dual Cool Shot 6-9 Coolant System. It had a top speed of 64.8 kph, which meant that I did not run from battles.
I really wished that option was on the table today.

I knew that, when the order came to fall back to Badger’s convoy, I would be forced to make a stand. I simply did not have the speed to escape the faster Combine BattleMechs. Though the thought of losing Ravager pained me, I had resolved to make the Snakes’ victory as Pyrrhic as I could.

As the Centurion’s hulk fell to the ground, I spun back towards the fight. Aside from the Raven, three friendly Mechs remained: an Atlas, a Centurion, and a Cataphract. The three of them were desperately trying to maintain their positions in a loose line before the advancing Combine Mechs. The docks were a short space behind them. I began racing toward the battle, intent on bringing my AC-20 into range, when the comm chattered to life.
“To all units, this is Captain Harcourt of the S.S. China Belle. We are away, repeat, we are away. Thanks for the cover!”

“Roger that Captain and Godspeed!”

I reached to close the comm channel, but it crackled to life again, “This is Brute One to all units. I will hold them here. Fall back to Badger and get out while you can!”

Brute One was our Atlas. He knew just as well as I did that neither of us would retreat.

Even as the channel faded into silence, I saw our Cataphract take a gauss slug through the cockpit. It lurched backwards and then toppled over with a large splash into the water. The Raven pilot was already running for the docks with me close behind it, and the Centurion had turned its back on the carnage and was fleeing in that direction as well. I twisted my torso towards the battle and fired a shot from my AC-20. It was a very long one, but it center-punched an incoming Catapult and caused the pilot to hesitate.

Brute One stood his ground, firing to the last. He was one of our best pilots and even the constant bombardment of enemy shots failed to shake his aim. He methodically fired round after round into the enemy Atlas, the only remaining Assault Mech the Snakes had in the field. I shifted targets and fired my own AC-20 round into the Atlas’s chest, one second ahead of Brute One’s own AC-20 shot. The double hit shattered the Snake’s chest and the Atlas detonated on the spot as its ammunition exploded inside its body. The force of the blast caused a nearby building to crumble and then collapse into the river. It also staggered the enemy Mechs for a moment. I used the window to throw myself at the boat ramp ahead of me. Even as I reached it though, I turned for one last look at the advancing Snakes, but the friendly Centurion blocked my view as it also reached the ramp. We were so close that we pilots were able to look each other in the eyes, and I saw my fear and pain mirrored in his own.

Then his Mech shuddered under fire, took a step back, and slowly fell, twisting until its cockpit drove into the water. A spray of water flew up as the liquid sloshed around his Mech, slowly coming to an uneasy rest over the top of its head. He didn’t even have time to eject. I knew that Centurions did not have full capsule ejection systems, and ejected only the command couch. Unless a rescue team reached him, he was a goner.

The Raven was slowly widening the gap between us. I ran over the surviving enemy Mechs in my mind…two Catapults, a Cataphract, a Centurion, and a Hunchback. My stomach knotted as my fears were confirmed. I could not outrun them.

At that moment, the radio crackled to life, “This is Sergeant Charlie Scott on an unsecured frequency. We request immediate support! Enemy Mechs are nearing our position. I have a handful of refugees in powerboats and we’re attempting to follow the ships. Please assist!”

I didn’t answer. I could not broadcast what I was about to do on an open frequency.

Instead, I opened a channel to the Raven, “Raven’s Wing, this is Nightmare1, over.”

“Raven’s Wing here, go ahead.”

“We both know that I’m too slow to make it. I’m going to buy time for you and the boats. Link up with Badger and get out of here!”

“Roger that Nightmare, good luck. Raven’s Wing, out.”

A high wall ran along both sides of the river to protect against flooding and erosion. The only way up into the dockyards from the river bed was the boat ramp I had used. So, I pointed my Mech at the ramp, waited a few seconds as I timed the enemy’s advance, and then opened the throttle.
As I approached the ramp, I saw a Catapult split off and run towards the fleeing refugees. His unprotected back was an inviting target, and he showed critical damage levels across the board. I knew that I would only get one shot, so I carefully adjusted my aim until I had it just right. My thumb depressed the firing stud and the AC-20 roared. The heavy slug nailed the enemy Catapult in what would have been the spine on a human. The Mech shuddered, staggered drunkenly, and then pitched forward into the water as black smoke billowed out of its cratered rear.

The AC-20 recharged at the precise moment that I reached the boat ramp. A building stood to my left, blocking my view of the enemy Mechs. As I swung around it and charged forward, I realized that my timing could not have been better.

The enemy Mechs were in a straight line. The lead Mech, a Catapult, was just hitting the bottom of the ramp when I lunged past him. Surprised, he couldn’t bring his weapons to bear in time as my AC-20 roared in defiance and smashed into his left arm. The Catapult reeled as the pilot tried to compensate for the sudden torque. I went by him at a dead run, driving straight into the heart of the lance.

My lasers lit up two more BattleMechs as I engaged everything that I could. The AC-20 recharged and I snapped another shot at the Catapult. It flew true, slamming into the left arm again and mangling it hopelessly. The pilot must have been out of missiles, for a shot like that should have detonated any munitions in the arm. I twisted towards the Cataphract as I continued my serpentine course through the Combine Mechs. My lasers drilled into his cockpit glass but failed to penetrate. The enemy Mechs were careful, firing slowly and trying to minimize any friendly fire to each other.

I swung back towards the Catapult again and threw a shot at its center torso. SRMs hammered me in the side as the Centurion moved towards me, and the AC-20 round slammed into the Pult’s left torso instead. My lasers followed it in, ruining the torso and exposing the engine and gyro.
And then it was all over. The enemy Mechs had arranged themselves into a box and were firing mercilessly into me. My right torso was destroyed, the AC-20 ammunition miraculously failing to detonate. I reached over and hit the self-destruct switch on my Mech, and then rapidly entered in the confirmation code known only to myself. With a hand poised on the ejection button, I swatted “Confirm” and then ejected. The top of Ravager split open and the ejection seat boosted me into the sky. As I reach the apex of my flight, the chute deployed and I began gliding towards the mountains and safety. Below me, the enemy Mechs fired a full salvo into Ravager as the reactor core went critical and detonated. The explosion flattened the Centurion and the Hunchback which both stood too close. The Cataphract was driven backwards into the river wall, while the Catapult staggered backwards for several feet, green coolant slinging out from its crippled torso. The force from the explosion was too much for its damaged interior, and I watched as the Catapult slowly slumped sideways and splashed into the river.

I wiped a tear from my eye as I mourned Ravager’s loss. I had completed my mission though. The boats and ships were both away, Badger was heading for the mountains, I was alive and would join him soon, and…I had dealt them a Pyrrhic Victory.

This would serve as a testament to our unflinching determination to make them pay in blood for every meter of ground they take. They have had their warning. Now all I have to say is that if they want this planet, well…

ΜΟΛΩΝ ΛΑΒΕ

[Nightmare1]

This is Part 3 of the Combine Invaders Series. It is also the last time that I will have a detailed intro; from now on, I will write in a more novelistic style with most of the information being presented through dialogue and story plot rather than flashbacks. I plan to write at least three more parts, perhaps more. If y'all like what you're reading, then please "like" it and send me a note letting me know...or you can send me a note telling me what you dislike and would like to see changed/different.

As always, please enjoy.

An Awesome Day to Die

“Nightmare1, you are to proceed to checkpoint Theta in support of a Point of light Mechs. They are a rapid deployment to secure the zone. Make certain that zone stays in our hands until heavier assets are available to support you. Is your objective clear?”

“Nightmare1, object is clear, over.”

“Very good. Command out at 1300.”

I closed the channel and stretched as best as I could in the cramped confines of my BattleMech. My call sign is Nightmare1 and I pilot Hunchbacks. The Hunchback is not a fancy or exciting Mech in any way. However, it is a tough, hardy machine that can usually deal out an impressive amount of damage for its weight. I own three of them. The one I was piloting today was my HBK-4G, which I call Ravager.

Ravager clocks in at 50 tons with a top speed of 64.8 kph. With 320 points of Ferro-Fibrous Armor and 13 Double Heat sinks, it proves to be a deadly adversary on the battlefield. I like to arm it with the standard, heavy-bore AC-20 Autocannon made famous for the awesome power it unleashes with every shot. I tripled the ammo and then added two medium lasers and a small laser to back up the AC-20. Ravager contains a Cool Shot 9 coolant injection system and a UAV for close support monitoring.

I cracked my knuckles and then rolled my head around, cracking the vertebras in my neck. I had been sitting in place for too long and dearly wanted to climb down the ladder and walk around on the ground for a bit. Guess that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. A few taps on the keyboard later and I had my course laid it.

Time to get moving.

As Ravager throttled forward into a rumbling jog, I reflected over the events leading up to this moment. I had been stationed on a border planet located next to the Draconis Combine. My people didn’t get along too well with them. I was a Davion pilot in the employ of the Kell Hounds mercenary unit. That gave the Combine reason to hate me doubly. The border planet’s name and location remains classified. The planet acted as a kind of a safety relief; a place where the two houses could air out their grievances in blood, without erupting into a full-scale conflict. I imagine that the people back home wouldn’t be pleased knowing that there was a continual shedding of blood here, so I assume that’s why it’s still kept secret.
Anyways, everything was pretty routine. The Snakes (that’s what we called folks from the Combine) would send over a raiding party to test us out, and we’d spank them and send them yelping back over the border. It was a good job with a nice paycheck, and I was actually starting to settle into life on the planet and to enjoy myself. Then everything changed.

The Snakes hit us with a raid, but this one had a Genyosha unit hidden in it. Genyosha are a crack Heavy Mech unit in the Combine who really, really hate the Kell Hounds. Two lances were deployed to meet the threat, myself among them. After a bloody fight, my Hunchback, called Sizzler, was the only one left standing…and it had a ruined leg to boot. We were caught completely off-guard and suffered crippling losses from that raid. Our garrison was never a very large one, but it was strong and comprised of tough, seasoned pilots. Now we were short-handed and had lost many of our best BattleMechs.

Then came the invasion.

A warlord in the Draconis Combine, acting on his own, had instigated an attack into Federated Suns space. It was his intention to capture our world, along with two or three others that were located nearby, thus sparking a war between the Combine and the Suns.

That war failed to materialize.

Instead, in a surprise move, the Combine disavowed the attack on our sovereignty, and refused to enter into the conflict. The warlord was on his own, however, House Davion was hesitant to send in a large force to quash the invasion. Our leaders were concerned that placing a main battle group in such close proximity to the Combine’s border might trigger another warlord invasion or possibly a real war with the Combine. So instead, they sent small support groups of men, Mechs, and materials to support our resistance. Our conflict turned into a war of attrition. We were being steadily supplied with weapons, troops, and equipment, albeit, painfully slowly. The warlord had no such supplies coming from the Combine and had actually been outlawed, but he commanded a larger and better equipped force. Interestingly enough, Combine units were on alert with orders to detain him and his force should he enter back into his home space.

I had been stationed with a company of Mechs at the planet’s north pole. There was little here of strategic value except for a listening post, but an attack group would be forced to come through the area in order to strike at our flanks. Our orders were to hold the area and prevent any such strike group from getting through to the rear of our lines. The nature of the area and the terrain prohibited large forces, and a company was about the largest unit that either side could field. Temperatures here are well below zero. To eject from my Mech would be to die.

This was going to be one of the most dangerous battles I will ever have to fight.

I was in the city now, weaving my way through the empty, wind blasted streets and in between the gray and white snow-covered buildings. This had once been a fairly prosperous oil-based city, but was now a veritable ghost town. It would be a lonely place to die.

I reached the lip of the canyon and found the slope leading down to the bottom. I was nearly to Theta when my IFF toned, alerting me that it was receiving signals from the Point on station. They weren’t alone though. Two other lights from the Combine were also there, and the four were engaged in a fierce firefight. It looked like we had a Jenner and a Spider against a Combine Jenner and a Raven.

I accelerated into a pounding run down the canyon. As I swung around the corner, the canyon wall curved sharply away and the ground became broken and rising before me. The Raven was twisting away from me as it passed about thirty meters from my BattleMech. I snapped a shot at it with my AC-20 and missed, but all three of my lasers found its unprotected rear. The Mech swiveled side to side in surprise and then darted away. I spun back to my left in time to spot the Jenner coming at me head-on. Its torso was twisted sideways and it hadn’t seen me. This time, I carefully lined up my crosshairs and waited for the AC-20 to settle on it. About that time, the Jenner pilot saw me on his radar, and snapped his Mech sideways. My shot missed narrowly, but my lasers sloughed off armor from its right torso and arm as it sped by.

With my appearance, my two ally Mechs seemed to redouble their efforts. I began to worry a little though; there was no reason for the two lights to stay and fight. They were outmatched and had moderate damage across all their readings. About that time, my IFF picked up a new signal coming from the far side of the clearing. There was a hill there at the base of the cliff and as I watched, an Awesome slowly topped the rise. My stomach did flip-flops for a moment; no wonder the two lights were holding so tenaciously!

I knew what I had to do and pointed Ravager towards the Awesome. I opened a comm channel to command, “Command, this is Nightmare1, over.”

“Command, go ahead.”

“Mark two light Mechs and an Awesome Assault Mech at Theta. Request immediate assistance, over.”

“10-4 Nightmare1, rerouting two Mechs to your position. Hold until relieved, over.”

“Roger that, Nightmare1 out.”

I closed the channel and focused on the Awesome. He saw me at that moment and twisted to face me. I juked right to throw off his aim. Two of his PPCs missed me, but the third one hit my left arm. My AC-20 settled on his torso and I depressed the firing stud. The cannon sounded heavily in the cockpit as the round left the barrel, and Ravager broke stride for a moment to accommodate the discharge. The heavy round smashed into the Awesome’s chest, forcing the Mech to take a step backwards and twisting its torso back around a little and out of line with my Hunchback.

I continued to close with the Snake, my lasers drilling into the damage wrought by my AC-20 round. The Awesome turned back to me and fired its PPCs. He hadn’t waited for his weapons to fully converge, and each shot hit me in a different place, staggering me. My AC-20 finished reloading and I fired again. This shot hit him in his right torso. Again, the Awesome stepped back to brace itself while its torso was snatched sideways. I fired my lasers as rapidly as they charged. The emerald and ruby beams stabbed into the Awesome’s chest, scoring armor and causing it to run down its front and legs in glowing rivulets until it hissed into the underlying snow amidst clouds of steam.

The Snake pilot pointed his Mech at me again, and I spun my torso and Mech away from him. The PPCs skipped by before and behind my Mech, with one lancing into my left arm and side. The heat spiked slightly in my cockpit as I aimed for a slope at the canyon wall. During the fight, the Awesome had continuously backed away from me in an effort to keep me out of its six. Now the two lights came speeding up behind me. I saw on my IFF that two new signals had joined my allied lights; apparently they were responsible for driving back the Raven and Jenner. Unfortunately, they now turned their energies on my unprotected rear as I charged the slope.

I threw another cannon round into the Awesome, spoiling its aim with its PPCs. I then hit the slope and ran up it, light Mechs firing into me all the way. My AC-20 finished loading as I swung ninety-degrees to the left and ran along the top of the slope, straight away from the cliff wall. The Awesome had just backed past it, and was trying to bring me back into focus with its PPCs. I hit the end of the slope where it dropped off abruptly and leapt down from the height. As I passed point blank in front of the Awesome, I cut loose with another round from my AC-20 and it slammed into his center torso. My lasers worried away more armor while one of them found its way inside the rents in the Snake’s chest. Thick, black smoke began to pour out of the Awesome while green coolant oozed out of the punctures.

Thinking that I was going to make a play for his rear, the Snake pilot swung his Mech in a spin backwards and right, while tracking his torso in the same direction. It was a smooth, talented move calculated to catch me off-guard as I swung around his right side to flank him. I had other plans though. Instead, I cut all speed to my engine, threw Ravager into a tight, left-hand turn, and then threw everything back into the engine speed. My Mech cornered sharply amidst a shower of kicked-up snow, and then launched itself in the opposite direction from the Awesome. The Raven and Jenner were taken by surprise too by my sudden about-face, and I stabbed the Raven’s center torso with my lasers. Then, knowing that the Awesome would be turning back towards me, I turned back toward the cliff wall to duplicate the jumping maneuver.

As I raced up and then along the hill, the Awesome sluggishly turning towards me, I saw that my armor readings were critical and that I had suffered internal damage. The heat in my cockpit was spiking high and I was showing a significant loss of cooling. While fighting the Awesome, the Raven and Jenner had done their work on my rear torso. I had to make this pass at the Awesome a killing one; there wouldn’t be a second chance.
The Awesome completed its turn and looked towards me, its arms swinging into line with Ravager. I held my target for a moment and then cut loose with a full alpha strike. Two of my lasers missed my mark, stabbing into its critically wounded right torso instead, but one medium laser and my AC-20 punched into and through the center torso. There was a flash of fire and the black smoke redoubled its volume. The Awesome staggered for a moment, twitched its torso, and then slowly fell forward into the snow.

I turned towards the Raven as it raced towards me. The pilot swerved as I fired my AC-20 and lasers. The lasers all burned off armor on its right torso, but the AC-20 round cut right across the cockpit glass, narrowly missing. The Raven and Jenner then unleashed alpha strikes into my crippled torso. Black smoke blew out past my cockpit, alarm klaxons wailed, and I felt myself losing control as the gyro began disintegrating. I reached over and swatted the emergency reactor shutdown and braced myself as my dead Mech toppled forward into the snow and then slid, face forward, down the hill.

My emergency power system came on as the red lights flickered to life and radio functionality was restored. I could hear the two lights tromping around in the snow, and I worried that they might decide to shoot into the rear of my cockpit.

Suddenly, I heard explosions and felt my cockpit shake. I knew that it had to be my four allied Mechs at Theta; they had finally engaged! As if to confirm my suspicion, the radio crackled to life, “Nightmare1, this is Hammer One. Are you okay? Over.”

“Yes, roger that,” I said as I gave my cockpit a quick once-over, “I’m not in any immediate danger, over.”

“10-4 Nightmare1. Long way from Forest Colony, huh?”

“Yes, it is that. Thanks for the rescue.”

“Our pleasure. The defense line is moving forward. Seems the Snakes didn’t know the area well and got split up by the terrain. We’ve been picking them off one-by-one and there aren’t many left now. We’re moving up as well; you’re on your own, but we’ll be back to pick you up, over.”

“Roger that Hammer, thanks.”

“Anytime Nightmare. Confidentially, I can’t wait to see your Mech’s holovids. That should be pretty interesting.”

I laughed, “You got it Hammer. Nightmare1 out.”

“Roger that, Hammer One clear.”

[Nightmare1]

Note to readers: This is actually Part 3 of my Combine Invaders Series. I mistakenly posted An Awesome Death ahead of it. Death is supposed to be Part 4. I was writing both at the same time, but finished Death first. I had meant to hold it in reserve until I finished Counterstrike, but got them mixed up and posted it by mistake. I need to pay closer attention to my file names next time!

As usual, please enjoy and "like" it if you think it's good.

Counterstrike

By now, most of you know me by my call sign, Nightmare1. I am a merc pilot in the employ of the Kell Hounds Mercenary Force, and am currently stationed on an undisclosed planet at the border of Davion and Kurita space. Our primary mission is to repel “unsanctioned” raids from the Draconis Combine. However, we currently are suffering from a full-scale invasion, the likes of which we are unprepared to fight. We are here to combat raiders, not armies. As a result, our equipment and manpower is not up to the challenge, and we have been reduced to fighting a guerilla style war.

Intelligence sources within the Federated Suns smuggled information to us regarding our attackers. It seems that the invasion is the work of a rogue warlord who has been denounced by the Combine. That does not make him and his force any less dangerous; if anything, it gives them desperation to succeed, a powerful driving force. The Suns, fearing that it may spark greater conflict with the Combine as a whole, has refused to send any significant forces to our aid, opting instead to smuggle us supplies, men, and BattleMechs as often as possible to aid in our war of attrition.

Suits and ties…how they manage to keep such control over the military is beyond my mental faculties. All I know is that there should have been a rapid military response to expel these invaders and show the Snakes that we are not afraid of them.

Instead, we have a proxy war of attrition to fight while the suits and ties spectate…

I watched the snowflakes drift past my cockpit glass as I contemplated the events of the past two months. Around me were seven more BattleMechs of various weights and chassis, their heads, shoulders, and arms white with a dusting of snow. We were sitting high in an alpine pass, waiting for word from our advance scouts before beginning our attack, giving me plenty of time to consider all that had occurred.

When the initial attack had commenced, it swept us from the field and left us scrambling to regroup and mount a defense. In the chaos that followed, I had fought at River City, sacrificing my favorite BattleMech in its defense and buying time for allied units and civilians to retreat. Now I was in a fresh Hunchback, a replacement for the one I lost, which had been procured from one of the many smuggling runs sponsored by our hesitant government. I quickly had it rearmed in the same manner as my old one and christened it “Ravager MKII.”

Today was its shakedown run.

When we fled River City, we had escaped into the mountains. Now we were poised toward the northernmost part of this range, preparing to raid a Kurita military base. Intelligence assets had indicated that this base was only lightly defended by eight BattleMechs. In their arrogance, the Snakes had moved the bulk of their forces into the mountains farther south in an attempt to hunt us down and eliminate us, leaving the base undermanned. All we could spare for the raid was eight Mechs ourselves, so this would be a pretty even fight. With a little luck, we would be able to neutralize the defenders, steal anything of value at the base, and then escape before the Snakes realized what had happened.

Everywhere I looked, the land was a soft, pleasant white. Surrounded by such beauty, it was hard to imagine that war could exist in such a place as this. Such musings were cut short by the order to move forward.

We would operate loosely in two lances. We were not certain what was out there or how the enemy forces were disposed, and did not want to risk getting caught in a concentrated group. My lance swung around the right side of the mountain and began moving through the pass, while the second lance went up and over the flat-topped peak.

Within the space of just a few, short minutes the serenity of the white wonderland had been broken.

Shouts of contact filled the comm. channels as weapons fire flashed and sizzled. Missiles pulverized the ground and BattleMechs, sending up vast sprays of snow as lasers sliced through the air amongst clouds of steam. Smoke began to rise hazily above the mountain.

My lance was engaged at the end of the pass. The lead Mechs were experiencing interference from enemy ECMs and could not relay targeting information to my Hunchback. I was tucked safely behind the shoulder of the peak, waiting for the enemy to close across the barren ground until they were within range of my weapons.

“This is Striker One, we need help atop the ridge! We’re outnumbered!”

“Nightmare to Striker One, I am en route.”

I throttled up to a full run and charged up the slope of the peak. Finally, I could engage the enemy. As I topped the rise, I saw that the lance had sustained serious casualties. Two Mechs were down and the remaining two were severely damaged. A Centurion was dueling with a Jenner and a Raven, while an enemy Trebuchet battled a friendly Cicada. My AC20 roared as I came level with the battle. The heavy round slammed into the enemy Jenner, catching it in the middle of a tight spin as it darted into the Centurion’s rear. The force of the shot and the physics of his turn sent the Jenner flipping through the air until it crashed heavily into the side of a snow embankment. The pilot quickly pulled the Mech back to its feet and dashed forward, twisting to fire its lasers at me. My own lasers, a mixture of emerald and ruby medium and small lasers, stabbed the Jenner as it ran past me.

I turned to bring my Mech to bear on it, snapping an off-hand AC-20 shot at the Raven as I did. It slammed into the light Mech head-on as it rushed past the Centurion in a strafing run. The Raven staggered for several strides before the pilot regained control and whipped back around the Centurion, placing it between us.

The Jenner’s pilot was not as strategic. He continued to duel with me on my own terms, attempting tight loops around my Ravager and firing his lasers rapidly. He was causing damage across all of my armor, but the lack of weapons concentration resulted in minimal localized damage. My lasers and AC-20 roared in tandem as I loosed an Alpha Strike into the Jenner with perfect timing. The lasers burned and sloughed off armor in molten rivulets that splashed and dripped off the light Mech and sent up clouds of steam from the snow underfoot. The AC-20 shot flew true, striking the Jenner’s center torso and disabling it. The Mech, its gyro gone, pitched forward on its face and slid, sending up a shower of snow. As I turned, I saw the Centurion drive nails into the Raven’s coffin with an Alpha Strike of its own. The Raven simply collapsed in place, its pilot ejecting to safety. Our friendly Cicada was not so lucky.

The Trebuchet was reduced to using medium lasers since the Cicada was operating inside the minimum range for its arm-mounted LRM launchers. Despite this, the pilot had successfully inflicted crippling pinpoint damage on the Cicada. Even as I twisted my Mech’s torso and brought my AC-20 to bear on the Trebuchet, the enemy pilot fired off his lasers. The three emerald beams glaring brilliantly against the snow as the lasers caught the Cicada coming in for a strafe and, more by luck than by skill, pierced the cockpit glass. There was a puff from the cockpit, and then the Cicada pitched forward and somersaulted once.

My AC-20 roared and the slug slammed into the Trebuchet’s right shoulder, nearly ripping it off and staggering the Mech. The pilot triggered his jump jets and leapt away as my lasers burned holes in the suddenly vacant snow. Steam rose from the holes lazily, giving the appearance that they were strange gun muzzles that had just fired.
I wheeled about and brought my guns back in line with the Trebuchet. The pilot ignored me and fired his lasers at the Centurion. The allied Mech was in critical condition. Much of its front armor was gone, and the guts of the BattleMech were visible through the rents and gaps in its chest. The lasers stabbed into the Centurion’s chest, and black smoke poured out in response. Green coolant began oozing down the sides of the Centurion, giving it the appearance of a bleeding wound. The Centurion moved sluggishly, as if it was underwater, and I knew that the gyro had been compromised. If I did not end this now, then the Trebuchet’s pilot would finish the Centurion.

I triggered off my lasers and the beams sliced into the Trebuchet’s mangled right shoulder, cleaving it off neatly and sending it crashing to the ground amidst a spray of snow and steam. Green coolant spurted out freely, coating the side of the Mech and the snow around it. The enemy pilot triggered his jump jets again as the Mech staggered sideways. The Trebuchet launched in a wobbling jump over the top of Ravager. I wheeled my Mech again, knowing that I would not be able to stop the enemy pilot in time.

As my Mech swung towards the Trebuchet, my crosshairs drifting ever closer, the enemy Mech triggered off its lasers again. This time they found the Centurion’s gyro and completely destroyed it. The pilot punched out in his command chair as the BattleMech swayed in place and then fell over on its side with a resounding crash. Snow shot up and over the Mech, only to come drifting back down to cover it like a consoling blanket.

The Trebuchet throttled up into a run and headed for the slope. I tracked it carefully, waiting for the right shot. This pilot would not run; of that I was certain. His rear torso armor was in good condition, and I knew that I would not be able to land a killing blow at this distance. So I waited, patiently, until the pilot did exactly what I expected him to do. As he reached the edge of the slope, he jetted up, spinning in place to snap his lasers at me. My AC-20 roared as my lasers spewed forth from Ravager. I timed my shots perfectly. All three lasers centered on his torso and the AC-20 round caught the Trebuchet square in the damaged chest. The Mech crumpled around the shell and began to tumble, until it suddenly detonated in mid-air. The explosion sent shrapnel pinging against my Hunchback’s armor and huge clouds of smoke and steam into the air as the snow around it vaporized.

I checked my radar and noted that my lancemates had moved considerably forward and were sprinting for the enemy base. No enemy targets were on the radar. Satisfied that the battle was over, I began moving towards the slope hill. As I did so, red dots appeared on the radar as my allies engaged some holdouts on the outskirts of the base. Not wanting to be late to the battle, I throttled up and ran to the edge.

I was just in time to meet an Atlas as it crested the rise.

For a moment, my brain refused to recognize its presence. It was impossible; why would an Atlas be all the way out here? But then my instincts kicked in and I fired my AC-20. The shell center-punched the Atlas as it stepped onto the level top with me. The enemy Mech paused for a moment, tracked me, and then unleashed an Alpha Strike. I had anticipated the barrage and whipped Ravager around smartly, letting the enemy’s shots gouge apart the ground in front of me. My lasers and AC-20 fired again as I drilled the Atlas in the chest. I spun away to take the return fire on my left side, and then rotated back towards the Atlas to fire again.
For several tense minutes, I battled the Atlas. The enemy pilot was careful to fire Alpha Strikes only, arrogantly refusing to acknowledge that he could not defeat me in this fighting style. I rolled off shot after shot of my AC-20 as quickly as it would reload, and maintained a slow but steady rate of laser fire to keep my heat down. Gradually, I began to win. The Atlas’s armor showed heavy damage and I knew that another round or two was all I needed to open it up and reveal its sensitive interior.

My subconscious count for the AC-20’s cooldown complete, I mashed down on the firing stud. Nothing. I waited a moment, and depressed the trigger again. Nothing. A quick glance at my Mech’s readout showed that I had run dry on my AC-20 ammunition. My throat suddenly constricted; I could not beat the Atlas without my cannon. I fired my lasers into the center torso and swerved to avoid the bulk of the Atlas’s return volley. The Mech’s large lasers tracked over me, gouging my armor and vaporizing snow. Suddenly, an idea formed in my head. I could outrun and lose the Atlas in the foothills, but I needed a head start. I threw Ravager at the mountain cliff, rushing over the side and then sliding down the steep embankment of snow. I searched the ground below me desperately, searching for a ledge. There! Behind me the Atlas was also sliding down the mountain, and I knew that I would only have one chance. Just as the ledge reached me, I planted my Mech hard and swung sideways, lunging along the mountainside in an effort to keep Ravager on the precarious ledge. I held my breath as the Hunchback teetered for a moment and I felt the snow shift beneath my weight. Ravager slumped back against the mountain, the ledge held, and I released my breath.

Behind me, the Atlas was not so lucky. Too late, the pilot saw my trick and was unable to copy it. The heavy Atlas smashed through the ledge behind me as the pilot triggered off his lasers in anger. Some of the caught me in the rear, but the damage was minimal. The Atlas, upset by its collision with the ledge, lost its balance and tumbled ponderously down the slope before it finally crashed into the snow powder below.

I wasted no time, knowing that I was still within range, and immediately pushed Ravager back up the mountainside using a slope that was conveniently located in front of me. I rotated my torso to keep an eye on the Atlas below. The Mech began to stir as its pilot shook off the tumbling and then brought it back to its feet. For a moment, it stared off into space, facing away from me as its pilot probably ran through a damage and system check. Then it wheeled about to fire. When it saw the empty ledge, the pilot hesitated again before looking up higher on the mountainside. Finally, he spotted me.

Beneath me feet, I felt the ground level out, and I knew that I had made it to safety, barely. Ravager hit its stride even as the sapphire beams of the Atlas’s lasers slashed through the snow to bathe my legs and slough off armor onto the rocks and snow. Another second later, and the lip of the mountainside jutted out between us, blocking his shots and preventing him from acquiring a missile lock. Sighing with relief, I rotated back around to face the front of the hill as the Atlas faded from my radar.

My stomach flip-flopped inside of me. Coming up the hill was a Hunchback 4H. The pilot was tracking me, preparing to fire his shoulder-mounted AC-10. With lightning reflexes, I whipped Ravager over into a sideways lunge. The AC-10 shot whooshed past as did most of the pilot’s four medium lasers. I instantly drove straight for the enemy Hunchback, holding my fire until I reached optimum range. My emerald and ruby beams stabbed into the Hunchback’s already damaged torso. Our armor readings were similar, but the enemy pilot had ammunition and more lasers than I did.

Of course, there was also the matter of a frustrated Atlas trudging around the base of the peak as it searched for a way to the top. This needed to be a quick fight; if protracted, then I was certain to lose.

The enemy pilot was not particularly skilled and, like the Atlas pilot, limited his combat to consecutive Alpha Strikes. His poor marksmanship resulted in miss after miss with the AC-10 and lasers. Most of the damage he inflicted against me resulted from dragging the lasers across my Mech and distributing the damage across the entire body. In contrast, I cycled my shots, maintaining a steady rate of fire that was pin-pointed on the enemy Mech’s center torso. We circle strafed each other for what seemed like hours but was in fact, mere minutes. My lasers continually drilled into the center torso armor, creating pits and enlarging holes into gaping maws. Armor ran freely from both of our Mechs, melting the snow and sending bursts of steam into the air that inhibited our visibility. The enemy AC-10 roared every few seconds, the shell narrowly whipping past Ravager or burying itself at my feet showering me with snow. The knot in my stomach continued to grow as the chances of the Atlas appearing increased with each passing moment.

Finally, my lasers pierced through the enemy armor, eviscerating the center torso amidst clouds of black smoke and jets of green coolant. Flashes erupted from the Hunchback, and I threw my own Mech down the slope away from the dying machine. An eruption shook the hill, sending snow flying into the air amidst junk metal and sprays of dirt. Secondary blasts rocked the summit as the unspent AC-10 rounds detonated, serving to further scalp the once white and pristine peak.

I braced my Mech as snow rolled down the hill in a mini-avalanche. The dirty wash of snow, mud, rock and Mech parts buffeted Ravager’s legs and staggered me. The flow only lasted for a few seconds and then the mountainside was again silent and still. I scanned the area, but saw no further signs indicative of an enemy presence. I throttled up into a walk and descended from the peak. Once at the bottom, I sped up into a full run and began heading for the enemy base. Radar showed that the rest of the attack group had taken up positions within it. There were no signs of fighting, which meant that the base was ours.

As Ravager hurriedly trudged across the snow, the back of my neck prickled with that sixth sense that a MechWarrior develops to alert him to nearby danger. I instinctively threw Ravager to the right as I twisted my torso around to see behind me. There, about nine hundred meters away, was the Atlas I had previously fought. Even as I saw it, sapphire beams stabbed toward my Hunchback as I swerved again, more sharply this time. The beams played across my right arm and torso, but did little to damage my already savaged BattleMech. The Atlas would need to close to within eight hundred meters for the lasers to have their full effect.

*Note to reader: Match ended here when we capped the enemy base. The rest of the story is pure fiction.

I opened a comm. channel, “Nightmare1 to all friendly units, request immediate support. I’m bringing in an Atlas for y’all to bag.”

“Nightmare, this is Commander Grayson. We thought we lost you back there, what happened, over?”

“Respectfully, it will be better to wait and tell it after we deal with this Atlas, over.”

“Roger that. Lance, lock LRMs on that Atlas and blow the Snake back to Kurita space. Nightmare, provide targeting information.”
“Roger that, Nightmare out.”

I had swung behind a snowy hillock to break the Atlas’s LOS. Now I moved out into the open and targeted the looming Atlas. The pilot triggered his lasers again, but he was still a little bit outside of weapons range and they did little to my Mech.

Grayson’s voice rang in my ear, “Fire LRMs now!”
A second later, missile plumes arced across the sky as a massive volley of missiles rocketed towards the slow-moving Atlas. Too late, the pilot saw the trap I had lured him into and tried to save himself by moving toward a hill for cover. The distance was too far though, and the missiles caught him in the open. Without an AMS, the full fury of the salvo burst upon him like a fury. The missiles detonated all over the Atlas while a few missed to explode on the snowy ground and leave a series of pockmarks surrounding the doomed Atlas. Staggering, the “King of the Battlefield” tried vainly to escape the missile volley, but the warheads continued to track the Mech. As the explosions blasted armor from the BattleMech, the sprays of snow and steam combined with the black smoke to obscure my vision. Suddenly, an arm came flipping out of the haze and stuck in the ground directly before my Hunchback, quivering slightly from the force which had driven it. Suddenly the Atlas followed it, reeling out of the cloud. Both arms were missing and its torso was shredded. Staggering drunkenly, the Mech came a few steps towards me before dropping to one knee. The ruined leg could not take the weight of the BattleMech and the joint snapped beneath its ponderous weight. Slowly, the mighty Atlas began to tip to the side, prompting the pilot to eject. Almost before his command couch cleared the war machine, the Atlas collapsed with gathering speed until it impacted the ground with an earth-shaking thud. Snow leapt up around it and then drifted slowly down to cover it like a funeral pall.

“Nightmare1 to Commander Grayson. Scratch one Atlas, repeat, scratch one Atlas, over.”

“Roger that Nightmare. Come on in; you’ve got see this haul.”

“10-4, Nightmare clear.”

I throttled back up into a jog and started heading for the base again. A few minutes later, Ravager was stepping over the barricades and into the compound. Commander Grayson’s formidable Highlander stood towering over my Hunchback.

“Grayson here, follow me to the hangars.”

“Roger that.”

The Highlander walked away as I followed at a distance. A moment later, we were standing at the entrance to the main Mech hangar.

“Wow,” I said, “That really is a haul.”

“There are three more hangars with equal complements, as well as two armory and ammunition buildings. There are enough Mechs and materials here to keep us running for a substantial amount of time and really put a kink in the Snakes’ supplies.”

The hangar before me contained a full company of BattleMechs, including a full lance of Dragons. The Dragons were a fast, tough heavy that excelled at sniping and mid-range combat. They were also one of the BattleMechs of choice for the Genyosha, signifying that this was probably a Genyosha staging area. I smiled at the thought of their outrage when they discovered our raid. Grayson had said that there were three more hangars like this one. That meant forty-eight BattleMechs in all.

“Looks like our intel was pretty bad; there’s definitely more than eight Mechs here. What about the pilots? They wouldn’t just leave nearly fifty Mechs lying around with only eight active ones to guard them.”

“That’s where the luck comes into play,” Grayson admitted, “Our attack was so sudden that the patrols didn’t have time to warn the base. When we reached it, most of the pilots were sleeping in the barracks. In fact, that’s where most of them are now. We had to shoot a few when they tried to reach their Mechs. If they had been able to activate a couple of them, then this battle would have turned out very differently.”

“Roger that, what’s out estimated time of departure?”
“We’re not going to worry about salvaging what’s on the field; there’s too much new stuff here as it is. HQ is sending transports and pilots for the Mechs and materials. They should arrive in about thirty minutes. The Snakes’ main force is still engaged to the south, and probably won’t realize what’s happened until after we’re gone. We’ll take a few of the pilots and personnel as prisoners too. All-in-all, we should be gone in about eight hours from the time the transports arrive.”

“Roger that,” I said. Not bad, I thought with a smile, not bad at all. If only I could have known that I would be back in these mountains two months from now, fighting on that same peak as I tried in vain to stem the onslaught of vengeful Genyosha and cover our own forces as they routed en masse.

[BerserX]

The 30 ton Spider topped the hill again at over 120 kilometers per hour, firing its three medium lasers at the arm of an 80 ton Stalker. The enemy 'mech turned to face its assailant, but was unable to track the fast-moving target. It's lancemate, an 100 ton Atlas wheeled about to trade shots with the Spider. It scored two large lasers across the legs of the lighter 'mech as it topped the hill again, disappearing from sight.

Sean Maverick was the last member of his lance: cut off, outgunned, and about to be gutted by two assault class 'mechs. In a desperate attempt to keep his impending doom at bay, he turned aside and ran along the base of the hill line. He again topped the hill, this time much further away from his enemies. He made a mad dash across the frozen open plain, taking shots one last time from the assaults.

Ahead, a Thunderbolt and Jenner moved to cut him off from his chance of regrouping with the main body. His 'mech shot to doll rags, he turned to face his new opponents. Jamming the sticks forward, he dodged side to side, throwing lasers and missiles off target as he headed for them. He jumped over the Jenner and targeted the larger 'mech, firing his lasers as fast as they recycled.

"If I'm dying, you're dying too," he whispered as he fired again and again...

[Nightmare1]

Hello all! I apologize for how long it's taken me to post up the next part of my Combine Invaders Series! This is Part 5, "Treachery at 15,000 Feet!" As usual, this fan-fic is based on an actual match I had a while back in which two of our pilots turned out to be TK'ers. Names have been altered and much of the account fictionalized to conform to MWO's Guidelines. Also, this was an older match, back when we still had 8-Man drops, so some of my memory was a little hazy. As a result, this part is more like a short-story and less like a recital in nature.

Please bear in mind that some parts will most likely not be canonical to the MWO Universe. I humbly ask that the reader take the story for what it is - a Fan-Fic made by a non-expert who has but limited spare time.

And now, enjoy! Feel free to post any comments you have too!

Treachery at 15,000 Feet

Office of General Ketch
Forward Command Center “Spearpoint”
0800 Hours

“Gentlemen, as you are undoubtedly aware, the Kuritans are pushing aggressively through the southern continent and have established their primary headquarters there. We do not yet have the battle strength to fight them on that front and must continue to conduct raids elsewhere to sap their strength. To that end, I intend to send you back to the Zone 12 of the northern continent, where you recently completed a mission to raid a military outpost in the mountain passes. That raid was extremely successful, and I doubt that they will be expecting us back so soon. The details of the raid are in this folder here,” the General held up a manila folder in front of the men, “that I will present to Commander Grayson. He is in charge of the operation, although he will not be able to attend it personally. Commander?”

As General Ketch finished, Commander Grayson stepped forward and faced the four men before him, “Our resources are still spread thin despite the windfall we brought in during the last raid on this facility. Though we captured many Mechs and much material, we are still short on manpower. Because of this, we cannot commit more than eight Mechs to the mission. That means that each of you must serve a vital role. Nightmare1 will lead the mission, while the three of you,” at this, Grayson gestured to the three Oriental men standing in a row, “will act as guides. All three of you are Kuritan, and two of you were captured from the base and have sworn allegiance to Davion.”

“Now, are there any questions?”

Silence reigned in the small office.

“Good then,” continued Grayson, “You start at ten-hundred hours. Dismissed.”

As the other three men turned to leave, I stepped forward, “Sirs? A moment please?”

The General nodded and the Kuritans left.

“I do not mean to sound disrespectful sirs, but I am concerned about the Kuritans. How do we know that they will not betray us?”
“They have sworn oaths to Davion,” replied a surprised General Ketch, “Any loyal Kuritan would refuse to do such a thing!”

Commander Grayson and I exchanged glances, and I could tell that the Commander had his own reservations. The General was a good man, but he had too much faith in humanity and was somewhat naïve. He had been appointed to General and placed in command of the planetary militia because of his familial relation to the planet’s governor. Though a nice man, he made a poor soldier.

“You are both dismissed,” said General Ketch, “Good day to you both.”

Commander Grayson and I left the office and stood in the hallway for a moment.

“I think you can trust Tadashi,” said Grayson, “But watch the other two. I have a bad feeling about them.”

“Yes sir,” I replied, unsure of what else I could say.

I returned to my quarters where I found Tadashi waiting outside my door.

“A moment sir?” He asked, “I will not take much of you time.”

I nodded and beckoned for him to enter the apartment with me. Once in, I sealed the door and asked, “What would you like to discuss?”

“The other two pilots, sir, Hajime and Gorou. They are Genyosha!”

“Are you sure?” I queried.

“Yes sir! I know them anywhere. This mission is doomed to fail.”

I eyed him critically, “How do I know you’re not lying and are Genyosha yourself?”

“You don’t,” he returned, “But you cannot afford to ignore me.”

“Very well,” I conceded, “I will speak to my superior officer and see what he has to say.”

“Thank you sir. I will go now.”

I nodded and he left. I then reached over, picked up my communicator, and punched in the number for Commander Grayson. After a couple of minutes, the Commander answered me, “Yes Nightmare, what is it?”

“Just finished a heart-to-heart with Tadashi. He claims that the other two pilots are Genyosha and that the mission is doomed.”

Grayson was silent for a while before sighing, “Well, as much as I don’t like it, there’s nothing I can do about it. General Ketch has taken a personal interest in the mission and believes that it’s a shoe-in for another great haul like the last one. He’s even taken it upon himself to arrange the deployments for your team. I’m going over the details now, and I don’t like one bit of it. It’s completely out of our hands now though.”

I sighed too and then replied, “10-4 Commander. Nightmare clear.”

I leaned my head against the wall as I clicked off the communicator. This was going to be a long day.

***********************************************************************************************************************

It was about 2:00 PM in the afternoon. Leopard Class Dropships had airlifted us to a departure point through the mountain passes about three hours ago. We had struck out from there, walking our BattleMechs up and down the slopes as we picked our way through the peaks until we reached our designated rendezvous point. Our two lances had been inserted separately to limit the chance of the entire team being caught in a pass and eliminated. Now, we gathered in the ruins of an abandoned military base below a cliff line. We were close to the Kurita base that lay nestled in the slopes below, and I was beginning to feel tense. It had been remarkably easy to work up to this position; a fact that disturbed me since this was the exact same position from which we had struck at the base during our last raid. Prudence would demand that the Snakes install monitoring equipment or alter their sentries’ routes to incorporate this secluded area into their base defenses. Instead, there was no sign of surveillance. A chill passed down my spine, and I thought of the old adage, “Someone just stepped on your grave.”

“Not today,” I muttered, “Someone else’s mayhap, but not mine; not today…”

An alarm dinged in the cockpit, signaling that it was time to begin our strike. I glanced at the IFF radar and quickly spotted the position of each Mech. All were ready, although two of them were lagging behind a bit.

“Everyone tighten up!” I said into the comm system, “It’s time to move out!”

I stepped out in my Dragon 5N(C). For this mission, Command had decided to field a full lance of the newly captured Dragon BattleMechs. The Dragon had proven a formidable opponent with speeds usually attainable only with Medium or Light Mechs, and a display of firepower that was often gut-wrenching to witness. For this mission, my Mech was armed with a Gauss Rifle and two Large Lasers. The Gauss was one of the most fearsome weapons available to a MechWarrior, possessing incredible stopping power at both close and long ranges. The Large Lasers provided additional ranged firepower, while the Mech’s powerful engine enabled me to outrun most of my comparable enemies and stay at range to use my weapons to advantage.

Command had insisted that I and the three Kuritans be placed into the Dragon lance. I had misgivings about providing such powerful skirmishers to the Snake pilots, but was overridden. Now, as I strode through the snow, I felt a tickling at the back of my neck warning me that all was not as it seemed.

When I reached the center of the abandoned military base, I angled my Mech for the mountain pass highlighted on my paper map. As I did so, I glanced down at my IFF Radar and noticed two friendly targets that were lagging far behind the main group. My brow furrowed, I reached over and tapped the targeting overlay key. Instantly, the pilot names appeared over their Mechs.

Hajime and Gorou!

In a swift, fluid motion, I crumpled the map with one hand and dropped it to the floorboard as I grabbed my Mech controls with the other. Even as I twisted the Mech’s torso, the machine shuddered and staggered as something impacted it powerfully on the side. I now gripped the controls with both hands and throttled up to max speed. The Dragon lunged forward, churning snow beneath its feet. The quick movement caused two Large Lasers to harmlessly graze the back of my Mech, scorching paint but doing little else.
I ground my teeth as I reached the cover of a nearby building. Hajime and Gorou had betrayed us! Only the quick twisting of my Mech’s torso had save it from getting speared in the back by a Gauss slug.

The comms system crackled to life as my pilots began crying out in anger while some called for assistance. Even as my Mech rounded the corner of the ruined building and began charging back up the slope, I saw one of the blue tags on my IFF radar blink out of existence.

Angry, I threw my Dragon up the gradual slope towards a retaining wall and a ramp onto the next level. As I did so, a Hunchback leapt down, the length of the drop staggering it. The pilot caught himself and began running along the wall, twisting around behind himself to see his pursuer. A Dragon quickly followed him, springing to the ground below and then spinning towards the Hunchback to snap off a Gauss slug. So intent was the pilot on his prey that he failed to notice my own Dragon as it thundered towards him. I jammed my left arm out and stiff-armed the turncoat on the shoulder, whirling him back around to face me and pinning his Mech to the retaining wall. Surprised, the enemy pilot was slow to react as I jammed my Gauss Rifle into his cockpit and then squeezed the trigger. The arm jolted as it discharged point-blank into the mangled cockpit.

I stepped back and let the Dragon fall to its knees. It hung there for a moment, balanced, before toppling over sideways into the snow.
“All Units, report in!” I barked into the comms system.

“Striker Two here, Striker One is down!” returned the Hunchback pilot, “I’m Lance Commander now and my Autocannon is ruined.”
“Reform your lance, pilot!” I said, “And prepare to withdraw.”

“Yessir!” he replied.

“All other Units, report in!” I commanded again. After a moment of silence, the comms crackled to life, “Tadashi here, engaged with Hajime; he just killed another pilot!”

“What sector?”

“Fox Eleven!”

“En route! Striker Two, wait here with your remaining pilot!”

“Yessir!”

I turned my Mech and began running for Sector F-11. I quickly zoomed up a slope and cornered a building to put myself on the outskirts of the abandoned base. In the open before me were Tadashi and Hajime, dueling at point-blank range with their Mechs. Both Dragons were heavily damaged with smoke and coolant both pouring out of rents in their armor.

I skidded to a halt and whipped up my Gauss Rifle. Picking out Hajime, I tracked him for a moment and then triggered the round. The Rifle kicked slightly as the capacitors discharged their energy and the magnets propelled the slug down the length of the barrel and then speeding outward towards Hajime’s Mech. In less time than it takes to blink an eye, the slug burrowed through the side of Hajime’s Dragon, wrecking its internal structures and fracturing its engine shielding. The heat indicators on my targeting computer spiked dramatically as thick, black smoke belched forth from the hole. Hajime fought his Mech to keep it upright as it staggered and then dropped to a knee. It started to fall sideways, but he jammed his gauss rifle into the dirt, desperate to keep the Mech somewhat erect. He raised his other arm to fire his Large Lasers but was too late. Even as he started to lift the arm, Tadashi grasped his own Gauss Rifle with his left hand, and then brought both arms down like a giant club. The cockpit caved under the tremendous force and Hajime was no more. His Dragon sat there, on one knee, propped up by the Gauss Rifle that was still jammed down into the dirt beneath the snow. Tadashi reach out with his left hand and shoved the Mech over backwards. It crashed to the ground hard, sending flakes of snow up around it that drifted down lazily without a care in the world.

I quickly looked at my scanners and saw that only four of us remained. In addition to the Dragons Tadashi and I piloted, there was the crippled Hunchback and a fairly fresh Centurion. Tadashi’s Dragon was badly damaged while my own had lost most of its rear torso armor. There was no chance of going forward, and I was concerned that we may not be able to withdraw. As if to confirm my fears, the comm system crackled to life, “Enemy Commander, this is Commander Masaru of the Kurita Armed Forces under Warlord Takeshi. I order you and your remaining forces to stand down and surrender!”

“Molon Labe!” I shot back tersely, then cut the connection. I quickly opened a new one to my remaining fighters, “Striker Two, get yourself and Striker Three out of here on the double. We will buy you some time. Go now!”

“10-4, Striker Two, over and out!”

“Tadashi, form on me. It’s time to find out what these Dragons can do! Engage at range and focus fire on their faster Mechs. We need to slow them and buy time for the others to escape. If we’re lucky, then we can too.”

“It will be done,” He replied to me.

We fanned out and climbed the nearby mountainside to Sector H-10. From there, we could see the Kurtan forces as they climbed the slope towards us. They were close, right at 1,000 meters from us. They were mostly Heavy and Assault Mechs; the Snakes had designed this trap with jaws of steel.

That would also prove to be our salvation.

We did not intend to fight them; in fact, we didn’t have to fight them. We only needed to delay them. They had one Dragon in the group, and it proved to be the only Mech capable of matching our speed. I tagged it as Target Alpha and ordered Tadashi to focus fire on it.

Our Gauss Rifles unleashed their terrible slugs, the silvery blurs flashing momentarily in the sunlight before plowing into the Dragon’s right and left torsos. The dual impact caught the pilot by surprise as he trudged up the hill, one leg in the air, and toppled his Mech over backwards. It hit hard and lay still.

The other Mechs opened fire, sending a deluge of shots at us. Light AC fire raked us while LRMs came speeding towards our position. We triggered our Gauss Rifles again, this time choosing different targets. I speared an Atlas in the left torso, the impact twisting the one-hundred ton King of the Battlefield around and causing it to pause momentarily. I did not see the effect Tadashi’s shot had.
The enemy Dragon clambered back to its feet and charged up the hill at full speed. He triggered his own Gauss, striking my own Mech in its center torso and triggering alarms in my cockpit. My Dragon rocked back, and I worked the controls to keep my balance.

“Tadashi! The Dragon is back up; we have to kill it before we can leave!”

“10-4!” He replied.

The Dragon had closed to within the range of our Large Lasers. In unison, we swung our Mechs to face it and each triggered off a full Alpha Strike. The Dragon’s center torso melted away as the lasers burned into the chest cavity. Our dual Gauss shots followed on the heels of the beams, punching through the engine and out the back of the BattleMech to bury themselves in the ground amidst clouds of snow. The Dragon wavered for a moment and then its reactor detonated, sending shockwaves roiling outwards from it.

“Now Tadashi, run for it!” I cried into the comms, “Go now before they recover!”

“Yes sir!” came the tense answer.

I threw my battered machine down the slope behind us into the abandoned base and began running as fast as I could for a nearby pass. I did not have far to go, but I needed to cross an open expanse without any cover that lay between the base and my safety in the mountain passes beyond. As I ran, I glanced down at my IFF radar and realized that Tadashi was not following.

“Tadashi,” I said, “Why do you remain?”

“To protect you,” He returned, “We both know that we will not make it without getting shot. While you may accept the risk, believing we will make it anyways, I am not so optimistic. Besides, when I return, I will face judgment for the actions of my comrades.”

“No military court would find you guilty,” I argued, “Come with me now!”

“There isn’t time,” He countered, “I have chosen this end. Now you must be sure that it is not in vain.”

As he finished, I heard the sounds of weapons fire over his connection and realized that he had re-engaged the enemy.

“Tadashi…” I started, but words failed me for several moments, “Tadashi, they will know. I will make sure they know and I will justify your sacrifice with the blood of our enemy!”

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Those were his last words. A moment later, I heard the crunch of metal through the comms system. At the mouth of the pass, I slowed and twisted my Mech to look back. I was just in time to witness Tadashi’s Dragon as its reactor detonated on the lip of the cliff. The explosion started an avalanche of snow pouring down the mountainside into the abandoned base below, burying it completely.

A Mech appeared on the ridge above Tadashi. I was out of range now, both for weapons and sensors so I held my fire. Turning back to the pass, I pushed my Mech’s throttle up to maximum and sprinted away from the scene.

There would be another day and when it came, Tadashi would be avenged.