BattleTech: Front Lines: BattleCorps Anthology, Volume 6, page 1
BATTLETECH: FRONT LINES
BATTLECORPS ANTHOLOGY, VOLUME 6
Edited by
JASON SCHMETZER AND PHILIP A. LEE
CONTENTS
Foreword
The Few, The Lucky by Chris Hussey
Operation Rat: The Totalitarian Mind by Steven Mohan, Jr.
Hikagemono by Craig A. Reed
Something More by Jason Hansa
The Discovery of Command by Harper Brand
Son of Blake by Blaine Lee Pardoe
A Light In the Dark Night by Christopher Purnell
Irreplaceable by Jason Hansa
Last Stop by Chris Hussey
Brothers in Arms by Christopher Purnell
About the Authors
Coming Soon: Redemption Rift
The BattleTech Fiction Series
FOREWORD
Welcome to Front Lines.
If you’ve read even one of the other BattleCorps anthologies, you probably know what the Jihad is already, but if you’re coming to this universe fresh, let me sum up: a radical religious sect that worships technology and has created cybernetic super soldiers declares war on the entire Inner Sphere, forcing a dozen interstellar realms and factions into open war.
Seems simple, right?
In 2009 the Jihad story arc had been running in the BattleTech universe for a few years. Gamers and BattleCorps subscribers were very familiar with it, and knew that no one was safe. Entire worlds were dying. But for a few of the writers contributing short fiction to BattleCorps, a realization was sinking in.
This realization was, I think, that a galaxy-spanning war was too large to encompass. The scale was too great for readers to react to it on a visceral, personal level. What readers needed was stories of people, actual people, and the way the Jihad was impacting their immediate concerns. The large, universe-shaking events were still taking place, yes: but those events were happening to people.
And so you get Steven Mohan, Jr. and his excellent “Operation Rat: The Totalitarian Mind,” about the desperate struggle of the Capellan Confederation during the Fourth Succession War—a time when defeat loomed, and men, even brothers, were driven to desperate choices.
You get Blaine Lee Pardoe’s “Son of Blake,” which tries to give readers a glimpse inside the Word of Blake itself. What would drive a group of people to declare war on everyone around them, all at the same time?
Harper Brand, making her BattleTech debut with “The Discovery of Command,” considers what happens when an entire Com Guard division is destroyed. It’s easy enough to write that off as a line in a game resource, but what happens to the people in that division?
Of course, the Jihad was not the only story BattleCorps told in 2009. One of the site’s strengths is that it draws fiction about the entire thousand-year history of the Inner Sphere, and many authors love to play in the property’s past. Jason Hansa’s wonderful “Irreplaceable” gives an iconic character an incredible backstory readers never suspected. Craig Reed and Christopher Purnell both examine events that give the BattleTech faction their historical flavor, in stories like “Hikagemono” and “A Light in the Darkness.”
What you see in 2009 across the many stories BattleCorps offered is a reaction to the horror of the Jihad, painted in emotions and people rather than lines on a map. And as the Jihad event ramped up toward its end in the BattleTech universe, these writers kept pace, making sure there was a human face in every spot of the map.
JASON SCHMETZER
THE FEW, THE LUCKY
CHRIS HUSSEY
DEADROCK
GALATEA
LYRAN ALLIANCE
15 NOVEMBER 3072
1930 HOURS
“HAVE A LITTLE OF THIS, YOU BASTARD,” Nevvin Kerris said as he leveled the large laser of his Cestus at the Word of Blake ’Mech roughly ninety meters distant. His targeting indicator pulsed green, indicating a lock. Kerris pressed the firing stud and watched the ruby beam cut a scar along the ’Mech’s chest.
The computer confirmed a lock with his Gauss cannon as well, but he resisted the temptation. It was tough to do, especially since his other large laser was out of commission. He wanted to take this ’Mech down, but ammunition was too precious, and the seven rounds Kerris had were all he was likely to see any time soon. And with what we’ll be expending to get out of this mess, we need to save every last one.
“Donna, where the hell’s our escape route?” Kerris asked as he sidestepped his ’Mech, placing a building between him and the Blakist Toyama that was giving him trouble.
Static crackled inside Kerris’ neurohelmet. “En route, sir. The terrain’s a little rougher than the scouts indicated.”
Kerris smiled and shook his head in frustration. “What’s new?” His two-story cover shook under the Blakist ’Mech’s assault. “There won’t be anything worth saving here in about a minute. Donovan’s armor has just gone red, and Harris has a reactor hit. He’s running hot, and these ’Mechs from the Forty-seventh have little sympathy.”
The structure in front of Kerris collapsed. It was the last of the tall buildings in the small town of Deadrock, where the remnants of his unit, the Last Knights, had spent the previous two days doing what little refit they could before the next inevitable Blakist attack. The Knights were down to six active ’Mechs, with two stragglers picked up from another unit long since dissolved after the Forty-seventh Shadow Division and other Word of Blake forces had smashed Galatea.
Seeing his Knights go from twenty-four ’Mechs with paired infantry battalions to these pitiful remnants filled Kerris with more anger than he could handle at times. Revenge was always at the top of his mind, but the constant running and harassment made that impossible. Indeed, it only fueled his anger.
The Blakist divisions had rained death on nearly every populated corner of the planet. Galatean City had been turned into a bloodbath, with the ’Mechs from the Forty-seventh performing such amazing combat maneuvers Kerris thought the footage had been doctored in some way. Once central authority had fallen, it didn’t take long for the world to revert to the way it was during the FedCom Civil War, with various gangs trying to stake their claims. Gangs formed out of the mercs that had scattered from the initial assault.
That didn’t last long. The Blakists saw to that.
Some stragglers survived, but only to tell the others what was happening. The horrors of fighting the Blakists, with their elite pilots and ’Mechs. The fear-filled tales did nearly as much damage as a PPC. It was psychological warfare that worked perfectly. The gangs were broken before they even really formed.
The Knights had been running wounded for about a month since the gang they’d been in had in broken ranks and scattered. They’d been dodging Blakist patrols for some time, looking for a way off planet, trying to limit their engagements, or at least lead their relentless enemy into traps.
Like this one.
A trap they’d set for the Wobs. A trap Kerris hoped would destroy this Toyama and all the ’Mechs under his command.
Kerris had pegged the Toyama as the lead of the two Level IIs that had been whittling away at the Knights, and was personally responsible for three deaths. He had sworn he would avenge them, and now he’d gotten his chance.
The plan had started well, but quickly fell apart, thanks mostly to the Blakists’ combat skill. They were better fighters than they appeared to be. It was past time to get out with what they could, but they needed Donna and the rest, and she still wasn’t in position.
Kerris backed down the street, squeezing off another shot from his large laser at the Toyama, which went wide left. The heavy ’Mech was circling wide around the rubble, and doing so much quicker than Kerris liked. The Toyama responded by letting fly with a trio of lasers. One shot clear over Kerris’ head, but the other two cut two small scars in the chest of his Cestus.
“Captain, this is Donovan. We’ve got our Blakes in position, but we won’t be able to hold them for long.”
Kerris checked the flatscreen on his left for the overview of Deadrock. Donovan and Harris were not far from his position, about five hundred meters across town. They’d been playing cat and mouse with four other Blakist ’Mechs, and paying the price from the sounds of it.
“Good. I’m on my way. This Toyama is smelling a kill.” Kerris picked up his pace, backing away from the ’Mech, letting off another large laser shot that clipped his enemy in the shoulder. The Toyama took a few steps and responded with a gout of flame and smoke as it launched a score of missiles at the Cestus.
“Shit!” Kerris sidestepped, but it wasn’t enough. Over half the volley exploded on his ’Mech’s body, wreathing it in fire, and shaking Kerris in his seat. He also felt an impact on his right leg from another large laser shot. Damage displays flashed, showing he was down to thirty percent protection across most of the Cestus. Making matters worse, his right leg was showing exposed myomers.
“This is Kerris. Ready or not Donna, I’m coming your way!” Turning, he kicked the ’Mech up to top speed, breaking across town. He was praying the assault he’d just bore would spike the Toyama’s heat enough to slow it down a little, but deep down he knew better. He hated leaving his back open like this, but there was little choice. He couldn’t stand toe-to-toe against this Blake MechWarrior. He was just too good, and Kerris’ Cestus was too roughed up.
Kerris took a hard corner and crouched low, using
That’s right, man. Just keep following. Kerris’s HUD told him Donovan and the others were holding their ground, sniping back and forth with their opponents. Two hundred meters left.
Another ruby beam from the Toyama zipped just past Kerris’ cockpit, causing him to instinctively jerk left, scraping the outer face of what looked like a bookstore, sending glass, mortar, and other debris flying.
Kerris’ targeting computer buzzed, indicating something hostile ahead. One of the Blakists was moving to flush out the hiding mercs. Swinging his large laser into position, Kerris secured a lock. The Gauss cannon also gave a green beep, and this time he took the temptation. The laser scored a gash across the upper arm of the Word Gurkha, but the Gauss round made the biggest impact. The solid metal sphere slammed square into the ’Mech’s knee, it’s high velocity forcing the slug through the entire joint structure. The ’Mech swayed slightly as the pilot struggled to stay upright. A moment later, it crashed to the street.
Kerris didn’t take time to celebrate, but cut down a side street, narrowly avoiding another laser blast from the Toyama. “Donovan, Harris, let’s move it!”
The pair of mercs rose and began to move back, closer toward the edge of town. Deadrock was built at the base of a stepped bluff, and Kerris had made sure most of his forces were either at the base of the bluff, or in Donna’s case, on the rocky steps overlooking the town.
Reaching the end of the street, the trio turned to face the oncoming Blakist ’Mechs. The Toyama had joined up with the pair of Buccaneers that had been with the Gurkha, along with a Lightray and Nexus II. Kerris and his men could have fled to either side of the street, but held their ground.
“Now, Donna.”
A line of smoke and flame erupted along the outcroppings of the bluff. The line gave birth to trails as scores of missiles arced up and over toward the Blake position, raining destruction down upon their opponents. Kerris, Donovan, and Harris added to the carnage by unloading with whatever they were able to add.
Kerris withheld his Gauss cannon this time. I won’t get that lucky again. The explosions from the devastating missile barrage bore secondary explosions as the enemy ’Mechs withered under the assault.
“Hold your fire,” Kerris ordered as the smoke cleared. Several of the ’Mechs lay burning and pockmarked in the barrage’s aftermath. Kerris watched as the Toyama and a Buccaneer limped away.
“Captain, we can’t let him go,” Donovan urged.
Again, temptation rose in Kerris. You lucky sonovabitch. You should be dead. “No, we’ll let him go. Let him send a message back to the Wobbies. Knights, let’s find cover and get to repairs.”
* * *
FELLIS FIELDS,
GALATEA
LYRAN ALLIANCE
22 NOVEMBER 3072
1200 HOURS
BEGIN JOURNAL ENTRY, Capt. Nevvin Kerris, CO, Last Knights Mercenary Company:
This past week has been another mixed bag of blessings and curses. After our “victory” at Deadrock, or the closest thing to a victory we’ve had since running, spirits were high. Didn’t last long once repairs began, though. Armor patching went well enough, but we didn’t have the parts to fix Harris’ reactor damage. He’s now in a constant run-hot state, coupled with the fact that two of his sinks are down, and his Hercules is in pretty rough shape.
I’ve been able to get my other large laser fixed, but it still only fires intermittently. On the way down from the bluffs, Hetz’s Dervish hit a rough patch, fell, and damaged an actuator we can’t fix. Compound that with the fact that we found no salvageable ammo in our scouring efforts, and we’re in strung-out shape.
On the plus side, we’ve been able to swell our numbers, just slightly. We rendezvoused with a few new stragglers, adding an Axman and just under three platoons worth of infantry to the ranks. Sadly, none of them are battle-armored. It’s all that’s left of a unit calling themselves Gideon’s Gangbusters.
With the infantry’s help, our intel and recon have improved considerably. We’ve been able to stay a step ahead of the Blakists, but as this week has gone by, I’m getting the sinking feeling they’re just toying with us. What I once thought as just a persistent pursuit, now seems more like a hunt. Especially when it comes to that damned Toyama.
Looking back at the Battle ROMs, I can see now that there were shots that bastard had on me, but he either didn’t take them or he missed on purpose. If it is a hunt, then when do they move in for the kill? The guys in Donna’s lance are getting nervous. I’d be too, if my primary weapons were nearly empty, and I was no good in close combat. Rations and other supplies are running low, and we need to be careful around any population centers. Too many people seem to want to back a winner. Salvaging and scavenging will only get us so far. The bases that used to dot this world during the Star League are great places to visit, but there’s jack shit to salvage.
There may be a ray of hope though. The infantry CO, Sergeant Gilcrest, heard a pretty solid rumor that there’s a merchant DropShip that’s parked at the airpad in Mekling, about four days out. We’ll need to get there in three, before he lifts for a JumpShip at a pirate point. The trick is to get there in one piece.
* * *
FELLIS FIELDS,
GALATEA
LYRAN ALLIANCE
22 NOVEMBER 3072
1600 HOURS
“And now, because of your coming here, you have put me and my home at risk.”
Kerris sighed. It was not what he’d intended to do, but he had to admit that the man standing before him was right. The Blakists would eventually track the Knights to this farm, and this man, named Wilkins, would likely not escape mistreatment by them.
When Kerris had first found the farm, he was thrilled. He hadn’t expected to find any civilization in this part of Fellis Fields, and the place offered hope of food, water, and maybe other supplies. But after talking with Wilkins for the past ten minutes, he realized he’d unwittingly dragged the farmer into the Knights’ escape plans.
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid you’re right.” Kerris turned and signaled to the rest of the group to get back in their ’Mechs and transports. “We’ll be leaving.”
“And what would you suggest I do then?” The irritation in the man’s voice was blatant.
Kerris turned toward the man. It was obvious he worked hard—the man was well-built, despite his loose clothes. Along with his short-cropped hair, Kerris would likely have placed him as a former soldier. He gestured toward the man’s house and nearby barn. “I’d pack up and get the hell out of here. Lay low for a few days. The Wobs will pass by. They may loot your place, but should leave it relatively undamaged.”
Wilkins looked Kerris in the eye, almost challenging him. “You think I should run like you’re doing?”
Kerris’ expression tightened. “What did you say?”
“Run like you are doing. You are MechWarriors and soldiers, and rather than fight these invaders, you are running. And for what?”
Kerris took a step closer to the man, not sure what to think of what seemed like a challenge. “Look, I’m sorry about what our presence here may do to your livelihood, but who the hell do you think you are? You have no idea the hell me and my troops have been through these past few weeks. You’d best shut your mouth, dirt digger, before I shut it for you.” Kerris turned to walk away, but Wilkins stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
Kerris whirled, leading with his fist. It ran straight into Wilkins open hand, who clamped hard on the strike, diverting it down and away. He squeezed Kerris’ shoulder, wrapped a leg around both of the other man’s and spun him, pulling him in. Continuing in a fluid motion, Wilkins brought his free arm up and clamped it tightly around Kerris’ neck.
