BattleTech: Front Lines: BattleCorps Anthology, Volume 6, page 27
William approved. “There’s no sense in letting them take casualties. We’ll keep the rebels’ attention at extreme range until the carriers are ready.”
He walked his Thunderbolt back from the outer edge of the vibrabomb field, stopping to fire a spread of long-range missiles and his large laser at the closest Vedette. The laser skipped over the top of the turret and missiles exploded along the revetment. He swore under his breath at the wasted shots, but they drew the attention of the tank and its mates, which had been the point.
Bacchelaut spent the next two minutes dancing just on the border of the effective range of the tanks, seemingly the target of the entire company. The situation changed as the boxy shapes of the LRM carriers began settling in at the far end of their own range. The rebel tank crews were aware of how devastating the thinly-armored vehicles could be, and shifted their fire in a vain attempt to hit them.
The LRM carriers launched two hundred and forty missiles, the huge salvo roaring into the air on a curtain of flames. The small rockets climbed steeply, skimming over the top of his ’Mech and streaking across the vibrabomb field. The tank crews threw their machines into reverse and began a synchronized series of left turns to pull away.
A portion of the LRM swarm showered their abandoned positions in explosions, while most of the flight flew over the revetments and homed in on the retreating armor. The attack covered the area in dust and smoke, and William thought he made out the black smoke and fire that marked burning vehicles.
There was a pause in operations as the scouts were brought up to pass through the minefield. It was oriented against vehicles and ’Mechs, not infantry, but safely getting through took them nearly twenty minutes. They found a pair of burning Scorpions and no other sign of the rebels.
The enemy’s withdrawal confirmed, he finally ordered the engineers to work. “Clear those vibrabombs as quickly as possible. Hauptmann Packer, bring your armor in to cover the task groups, and keep those LRM carriers on alert for any counterattacks. Bring them closer in once the field is halfway cleared, and have the engineers bring up ’dozers to knock over the revetments after they finish.”
“Roger, sir.” Packer took the lead, directing his tanks into position from the cupola of his own Vedette and then climbing out to guide the engineering support vehicles forward. Bacchelaut marked down his behavior for praise later, relieved the weekend warrior was proving to be a competent officer.
While Edward and Emily milled around in a vaguely protective role, he activated the long-distance transmission mode of his communications suite. The indicator light turned green, confirming he had a connection with Kommandant Ellen Forster’s headquarters.
There was a scuffling sound from the other end, and he heard the roar of mountain winds through canvas. “Kommandant Forster here, sir. We cleared out the last of the enemy patrols and are setting up the guns now.”
He winced at her use of the word enemy, but it was accurate enough. “That’s on time, Ellen. Give the regiment my praise for a job well done in difficult circumstances.” Securing the series of small trails and minor foot-passes around the A34 had been a real challenge, even without the need to port up and reassemble a battery of artillery pieces.
“That’ll mean a lot coming from you, Kommandant.”
She meant the favorite son of Bluford, a boy from a humble family who had become a knight for the Fox and his glamorous foreign princess. Not for the first time William felt embarrassed at the esteem his home planet held him in. He’d done his duty and retired home. He knew full well that Count Josiah Reese had called him back to the colors to use his reputation, and had gone along anyway. Duty demanded it, but he didn’t have to like the attention.
He perked his ears back up as Ellen continued her report. “We should be prepared to start zeroing in the other end of the A34 in thirty minutes. Our gunners ought to be good enough to curtain that portion of the pass if Otis tries to retreat through there.”
“I wish we had used the guns for something more than Federation Day celebrations,” he replied drolly. It was a bit of an exaggeration, but the Thumpers were old, rarely used in exercises, and the ammunition stockpiles dated back to the Third Succession War. “Tell the gunners to do their best, and that I only expect them to close down the other end of the pass. If they accomplish that, they’ll have made a decisive contribution to our victory here.”
An explosion caught his attention and he shifted his eyes to his sensor display, but there were no hostile blips on it. Looking out of his cockpit he saw smoke rising above a small crater festooned with sprawled bodies. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as the sight brought back painful memories from the former Sarna March. It always hurt to lose someone under his command.
“One team is down. Repeat, two KIA and one WIA.” Packer’s clipped accent made the report come across as perfunctory and dispassionate. “Clearing that part of the field will be delayed slightly, but I have work continuing on the other portions.”
Bacchelaut felt the burden of command weigh heavily on his shoulders. “Keep me up to date on the situation as you can, Hauptmann. Has the wind improved in the last half-hour?”
Packer took a couple of minutes to get back to him. “If anything, conditions have gotten worse, sir. Fred strengthened into a category three ahead of landfall west of Roscoe. Our pilots simply aren’t skilled enough to handle those conditions.”
“And it’s two hours to the nearest hospital by the A34.” He hissed under his breath. It was that same hurricane that had pushed Count Reece to order him to engage the last pro-Victor rebels immediately, costing him VTOL support. All so relief supplies could be brought across the Stone Mountains from the rest of the continent of Jackson. “There’s nothing we can do now but hope the field medics can stabilize him. Tell them to use their best judgment about sending people back to St. Mary’s in Atlanta, and tell the aerodrome to have our evacuation flights relocate there as soon as conditions make the risk acceptable.”
“I’ll have them do that, sir. Clearance will continue once we’ve policed up the rest of the remains.” With that Packer cut off, no doubt to continue his direction of the situation.
“I’m sorry to have heard that.” William was reminded he’d forgotten to disconnect from Forster. “We’ve taken our own losses from rockslides and falls. There’s nothing you can do about these things. They just happen.” Despite her fatalism, he heard a touch of sadness in her voice.
“It’s two more letters to write to grieving families. Maybe three if the MASH facilities aren’t enough to save the wounded man. Taking an explosion close up like that is real bad.” He sighed, trying to release the emotional tension building inside of him. Odds were good he’d have a lot more than just three casualties before this was over. “Give me that fire when you can, Kommandant. Then we’ll push into the pass and finish this.”
She acknowledged his orders, but William barely heard, his attention shifting to the engineers as they went about their business. It wasn’t long before his thoughts drifted to his opponent.
The aristocratic Otis family had trained him on an old Valkyrie for a bit before he’d enlisted in the AFFS. That, and a captured Capellan Wasp had made it possible for him to climb up the ranks of the new AFFC. He had palled around with Michael when they were teenagers, and found him a good friend after he had returned to Bluford. Mike’s son had married his daughter. And now Mike had raised arms against the FedCom, and become his enemy.
“It looks like they’re almost done clearing the field,” Taliaferro said, focusing William on the task at hand. “We don’t really have any light recon, and the infantry scouts would be left behind real quick. I suggest we advance behind a screen of Hauptmann Packer’s armor company, and make ready to pursue if the rebels try and break through the artillery kill-zone. If not, we can lure ’em back on our LRM carriers and Hetzers.”
“Good thinking, Leftenant.” It was also a tad presumptuous, but the junior officer needed to be encouraged to show initiative. Edward would command the militia’s ’Mech assets after William finished with this task, after all. Whatever Count Reese said, he was through after this final service to the FedCom.
He carefully walked his Thunderbolt forward , watching the road in case the engineers had missed a vibrabomb. Edward followed at a faster clip, soon pulling ahead by a hundred meters before slowing down. Emily hovered behind him, hesitant in her light ’Mech, and seemingly looking to draw strength from his proximity. The vehicles of Packer’s command flowed around the feet of the giants before breaking into full speed.
The communications set picked up an unencrypted broadcast coming from inside the pass. William turned it on, breaking into a speech by his old friend. “—and we know that Katherine the tyrant has redirected medical aid and food supplies away from planets that resist her! She has empowered Count Reese to trample on the rights of our own legislature as long as he pledges allegiance to her. We here on Bluford know her character, and we know the hero of the Clan Wars, Prince Victor! Don’t follow the despot into slavery, join us and liberate our homeworld from her grasp!”
He tuned his own set to transmit unsecured, to answer the appeal before it swayed any of his men. “Mike, this isn’t the Free Worlds League! We don’t get to mount a coup every time we disagree with the civilian government. The military is subordinate to the civilian power, and that’s what makes us better than the other realms! Katherine Steiner-Davion is our lawful regent, and your rebellion against her is treason. For the love of God, end this now, before more of our people are killed!”
“We’ve all seen Prince Victor’s speech. The real Prince of the Federated Suns has denounced her as a murderer. Our loyalty lies with him, not with the usurping bitch that betrayed our country!”
“The former Prince abdicated his throne.” There was no small measure of contempt in William’s voice for that decision. “He fled into the arms of ComStar, the same people that betrayed his father. He can’t just take it back, and the laws on the regency are clear. Katherine is the legitimate head of state, and his actions to remove her are rebellion against the state. He’ll break apart the FedCom if he isn’t put down.”
“Katherine already broke that when she pulled the Lyran Commonwealth out and abandoned you and your men to your fate. The Chaos March—the hell you endured there—that’s all her fault.”
William took a breath. He was sitting in another former Capellan ’Mech, one pulled from the wreckage of the Sarna March. It was a reminder of the vicious fighting that followed the Lyran betrayal, but it also reminded him of his duty. “I saw what happens when you let civilian authority break down. I won’t allow you to bring that kind of anarchy to Bluford, Mike. Even if Katherine betrayed me, she’s now the embodiment of the FedCom, and I owe that too much to ever turn on it. Surrender now! You’ll go on trial with Leftenant-General Saunders for treason, but I can get the Count to pardon your men. You can’t win here. The war won’t even be decided on Bluford. Just give it up and spare them, Mike.”
“How can you defend that despot?” There was a note of anger and frustration coming from Michael now. “You can’t be that stubborn, Bill. That whore stabbed a knife right in your back, right in the backs of—” The voice on the other end cut off, and in the background he could hear a staccato beat of explosions.
“That would be my artillery,” William said coldly. “The A34 is now shut down. The foot trails are guarded by Kommandant Forster’s regiment. Stand down and surrender, Kommandant Otis.”
The explosions continued as Michael’s silence stretched on. Finally, faintly, he replied. “There’s an old Terran saying etched over the portico of the Burgesses. ‘Resistance to tyranny is obedience to God.’ The FedCom is worthless if it places a despot like Katherine over us. You have your duty and I have mine. Goodbye, William.”
He wanted to scream at Mike to stand down, to stop the madness, but he fought down the impulse.
After taking a deep breath, he issued his orders for the battle. “Kommandant Otis is piloting his family BattleMaster. It’s an old machine, but still dangerous, so do not close with it under any circumstances. Priority target is MechWarrior Nassem’s Locust, since it’s more vulnerable than the BattleMaster, but a lot more important than the tanks. Emily, I want you to stay a hundred meters behind me at all times. Your ’Mech won’t last long in any engagement with his.”
“Y—yes, sir.” Emily’s soft voice sounded apprehensive.
“I’ll need to get in effective range for my autocannon, sir.” Edward on the other hand sounded like he was keyed for an argument. “It’s the best weapon we have against a BattleMaster, and if we make it obvious we’re staying at range he’ll cotton to the trap.”
And he’d stay put or risk the run through the other end of the A34, though either outcome would be roughly okay with William. Still, a little aggressiveness with the hardy Centurion would help bait the trap. “Okay, Leftenant Taliaferro.” He emphasized the rank to remind the younger man who was in charge. “Just remember that you’re playing picador, not matador.”
Their advance was well-underway before William realized the poorly-traveled Edward had probably never seen a bullfight in his life. One moment the horizon was clear, and the next the figure of a sloping giant emerged. The squat shapes of armor swarmed around the BattleMaster’s feet, and the hunched form of a Locust raced ahead and weaved around in deliberately confusing maneuvers.
There was no longer any time for thought or elaborate plans, the enemy was upon them. William fought the instinctual drive to close, retaining a cool head and continuing his own measured advance while keeping his targeting reticule aimed on the nimble light ’Mech.
Seconds later he heard the familiar tone of a lock-on, indicating the LRM guidance circuits had a bead on the Locust. Without waiting further, he fired the missiles at the smaller ’Mech, and felt a tiny push as the LRMs blasted out of his Thunderbolt’s shoulder launcher.
His large laser scored a glancing hit across the side of the dodging light ’Mech. More missiles flew by from behind him as Emily opened fire. The groups of missiles followed one after the other, engulfing the Locust in a series of small explosions and throwing it off-balance. The lead elements of the rebel armor were engaging Packer’s company, but that did not deter them from firing on William and Edward. The light rounds pinged into Bacchelaut’s armor, but damage was limited. The real retaliation came when Michael leveled his BattleMaster’s PPC and fired, the cerulean beam of charged particles clipping the shoulder of William’s Thunderbolt.
There was a momentary frizzle of electronics from the interference caused by the hit, and when his display cleared, he saw the armor diagram on his right side flash yellow. William shrugged it off and lined up a shot of his large laser at Nassem’s reeling Locust. It was a miss, and he paid for it with a sharp spike of heat in his cockpit. He angled for an LRM lock-on, but Nassem darted his machine back behind the imposing bulk of Michael’s BattleMaster.
Edward stopped advancing to fire a spread of LRMs, drawing the tanks’ attention. He was hit by a volley of fire from a lance of Scorpions, and William saw armor sloughing off his chest and arm from the impacts. That failed to deter the young Leftenant, who switched his target to the tanks as Nassem angled away.
“I regret to report that we’re getting worse than we’re giving.” Packer broke in over the tactical net, drawing William’s attention to the bigger picture. Bacchelaut’s screen was outnumbered by the enemy tanks, and his theoretical advantage in ’Mech firepower wasn’t worth much when matched against the heavy armor and weapons of the Otis family assault ’Mech.
As if to underscore the point Michael shifted his own fire, sending another particle stream whizzing just barely over the head of Edward’s Centurion. As if by signal, most of the rebel tanks shifted their fire away from Packer’s company to the medium ’Mech. Edward piloted the old machine with skill, but he was clipped by more and more bursts of light autocannon fire.
William held his breath, fighting the urge to order him out of the thick of the battle right away. The Centurion had the armor to take some beating.
Edward seemed unfazed by the sudden storm of attention and fired his autocannon at a nearby Scorpion. The light tank came apart under the hammer-blows of his heavy shells, disintegrating rather than blowing up. It was obvious there were no survivors there, and William felt tightness in his chest at the sight. Rebels or no, they were still his countrymen.
The moment of emotional pain was over as quickly as it had come, and he finished re-evaluating his tactical plan. Nassem was maneuvering at long range, making fire against him a waste of effort. “I’ll target Michael. Edward, Emily, support Hauptmann Packer’s armor with direct fire. We’re falling back on the LRM carriers, remember it!”
He slewed his targeting reticule over to the BattleMaster, loosing a barrage of missiles at the hulking giant, and following up with another shot of his large laser. Both scored hits, but the assault ’Mech’s heavy armor shrugged off the damage. Seeing Michael bring his PPC to bear on Edward again, he made the decision to step into medium laser range.
This time the BattleMaster’s aim was true, and an azure beam connected with the chest plate of Edward’s ’Mech. Michael added a full volley of four medium lasers, with two of the emerald beams gouging further pits of melting armor in the Centurion’s ravaged chest.
William watched, alarmed, as the medium ’Mech staggered under the assault. He pulled his firing trigger, letting go at Michael with everything but his machine guns in the hope of drawing the BattleMaster’s attention. It was a snap shot, the missiles barely locking on before launch, and most of the lasers went wild. He saw some armor melt and run down the arm of his target, but Michael continued toward Edward’s machine with unshakeable resolve.
Edward was now under constant attack by the rebel Vedettes and Scorpions, and had taken heavy damage from Michael’s assault. William saw him pulling back out of the cauldron of fire and reluctantly ordered Packer and Emily to close the range. He hadn’t advanced through the ranks by letting his men pay for their mistakes if he could help it.
