BattleTech Legends: The Blood of Kerensky Trilogy, page 50
Up over the computer horizon came three swarms of long-range missiles. The narrow canyon took some out as they impacted the lip or slammed into outcroppings and exploded in brilliant balls of computerized flame. A series of detonations rocked Victor in his pod as missiles peppered his ’Mech’s left leg, blasting digitized armor into fragments. The Victor started to topple again, but the Prince jammed the useless autocannon into a canyon wall and kept himself upright.
The barrage also hammered the two Kurita ’Mechs. The missiles savaged the armor on Hohiro’s chest and right leg. A rippling series of explosions crushed armor on Shin’s Phoenix Hawk, leaving the right side of its chest pockmarked with craters. A second wave of missiles, following immediately after the first, blasted yet more armor from Hohiro’s Grand Dragon and chipped away at the armor over the Phoenix Hawk’s chest and right arm.
Victor escaped the wrath of the second wave, but Galen did not. A quintet of missiles arced into the Crusader’s right knee. Great chunks of half-melted ferroceramic armor shot from the fireball engulfing the joint. The ’Mech staggered, dropping to one knee as another set of missiles struck it full in the chest. The impact knocked the Crusader sideways, but Galen caught it on one hand and kept the ’Mech from going all the way down.
The fire in the ’Mech’s chest did not subside with the end of the missile barrage. More explosions wracked the humanoid Crusader, making it shake as with a giant case of hiccups. Fire geysered from the hole in its chest and out through its spine, then a massive blast obliterated its chest and sent its arms and legs flying throughout the canyon.
“Galen’s out. Move!” Victor started his ’Mech running down the canyon toward where he had seen Kai’s Centurion. “Missiles must have breached the armor and touched off his short-range missile magazine. Move it, or we’ll get pounded by another flight of LRMs.” Victor suppressed a shudder as he realized that if Kai’s attack had hit his autocannon magazine, his own ’Mech could easily have been torn apart from inside. “Kai spotted for the rest of his lance and they brought the missiles right down on top of us.”
Victor cut around the corner into another canyon and saw, after a short distance, that it opened to the right into a broader canyon with a flat, level floor. Better yet, a ’Mech stood its ground and waited for him. “Move, guys. I’ve found them.”
His computer identified the BattleMech as a Cataphract, but Victor knew it by another name. Because the ungainly beast looked like something cobbled together from various parts of other ’Mechs, most Federated Commonwealth MechWarriors called the Liao ’Mech a “Frankenstein.” An autocannon barrel jutted forward like a lance from the center of its chest. Its right arm was identical to a Marauder’s, down to the PPC and medium laser in the boxy weapons pod that substituted for a right hand. The left arm was styled after the right arm on most Shadow Hawks, except that the medium laser was mounted on top of the arm instead of below it. That led most weapon experts to conclude that the whole system had just been transplanted with a refit on the elbow and hand. The bulbous body and birdlike legs again drew comparisons with the Marauder, but somehow the Cataphract did not offer the same menace as its predecessor.
Victor dropped his crosshairs onto the Cataphract’s outline and hit the button beneath his left thumb. Twin spears of laser light stabbed out at the awkward ’Mech. The first shot boiled away armor on the Cataphract’s left flank, letting gobbets of it drop like rain onto the canyon floor. The second carved a hot scar through the armor on the ’Mech’s head, making the pilot flinch. The ’Mech, complying with the motion of the pilot, took a skip-jump to the left, but stayed upright and brought its weapons to bear.
A bolt of blue lightning leaped from the PPC and caressed the Victor’s right arm. Molten armor coursed down the limb like blood from an open wound. The two medium lasers bracketed the assault ’Mech, each stabbing into the armor on an arm. The autocannon’s stream of slugs slashed a bar sinister across the Victor’s chest, but nothing penetrated armor to cause internal damage.
With his autocannon out of commission, Victor sent his ’Mech racing forward to beat on the Cataphract with the useless weapon. A quick blow could knock the autocannon out of commission, and being in that close would make the PPC much more difficult to aim.
Victor smiled as he raised the ’Mech’s right arm. “It’s all over now, Sun-Tzu.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. To the extreme right edge of his display, he saw Kai’s Centurion step away from its hiding place near the canyon mouth. The autocannon came up, and even as Victor tried to cut to one side, the weapon vomited out a rain of metal.
The depleted-uranium slugs hit the Victor in its already damaged left leg. The projectiles blasted away the battered remnants of armor, then zipped through the myomer muscles corded in the ’Mech’s thigh. Sparks flew as shells chipped away at the ferrotitanium femur, snapping the inorganic bone in half.
As the lower half of his ’Mech’s left leg dropped away, Victor fought a losing battle to retain his balance. The ’Mech twisted as it fell, smashing its back against the far canyon wall. The command couch’s special panels punched into Victor’s own back, crunching him between them and the restraining belts. The blow stunned him for a moment, leaving him unable to do anything but watch as Hohiro and Shin entered the canyon.
From his vantage point, Victor saw the other two members of Kai’s lance, an Orion and a Catapult, both ’Mechs with LRMs in their arms. The Catapult directed both its fifteen-missile flights at the Phoenix Hawk, while the Orion concentrated on the Grand Dragon. The Cataphract brought its weapons to bear on Hohiro, while Kai swung his autocannon around to take the Phoenix Hawk.
The missiles covered the mouth of the canyon in a sheet of flame. The explosions stripped all the armor off the Phoenix Hawk’s arms, and a subsidiary blast took out the medium laser mounted on the underside of the right forearm. Even more damaging, the missiles hitting the left arm shredded the myomer muscles in the upper arm, leaving it dangling and useless. More explosions sent sheets of armor flying from the ’Mech’s left flank and leg, with two scoring hits on the Phoenix Hawk’s head.
The Grand Dragon fared better, as most of the missiles undershot the target. Even so, they managed to whittle away armor on the ’Mech’s chest and left leg, providing the Cataphract with viable targets for its attack. Yet even as the fire condensed into black smoke, the Grand Dragon had sighted in on the Cataphract and the two ’Mechs exchanged volleys.
The azure bolt from the Grand Dragon’s PPCs lashed hunks of armor from the Cataphract’s left arm, but failed to penetrate it fully. The medium laser mounted in its left breast stabbed out and melted more armor over the left flank that Victor had previously hit, but again failed to do more than damage armor.
In return, the Cataphract’s autocannon peeled a strip of armor from the Grand Dragon’s left flank. The Liao ’Mech’s medium lasers missed their target, but the PPC made up for the misses with a vengeance.
The cerulean energy whip flayed the last of the armor from the Grand Dragon’s left leg. As it dropped away, the particle beam sliced like a scalpel into the myomer fibers in the thigh, melting them like candles. The Grand Dragon, having lost control of its left leg, started to tip, but Hohiro shifted the ’Mech’s weight back over onto its right leg and kept the machine upright.
Kai’s Centurion fired at the Phoenix Hawk from point-blank range. The autocannon’s salvo hit the ’Mech’s right shoulder, spinning it around like a toy. Sparks flew as the large laser shorted, and a string of firecracker pops sounded as the machine gun’s ammo cooked off. The Phoenix Hawk slammed into the canyon wall face-first, then rebounded and dropped to its back on the rocky floor.
Another concentrated volley of rockets brought Hohiro crashing down. He struggled to rise up again, but Kai blew the Grand Dragon’s right arm off at the elbow with a shot that could just as easily have destroyed the cockpit. The computer controlling the exercise asked if Victor wanted to surrender, and he reluctantly replied in the affirmative.
As the screens died and the hatch at the back of the simulator opened, Victor unbuckled himself from the command couch. He set the neurohelmet back on the shelf over his head, then rubbed his eyes with both hands. “What a disaster. I’m never going to hear the end of this.” He gave himself a few seconds to dream up some excuse that could explain how he’d managed to lose his whole command of battle-hardened veterans to Kai and some rookies, but nothing even remotely viable occurred to him.
Victor was the last one to reach the lounge area outside the simulator pod room. Kai was already there, flanked by his sister Cassandra on one side and Ragnar Magnusson on the other. Hohiro and Shin stood nearby, while Sun-Tzu scowled at the assembly. Galen straightened up from the drinking fountain near the door and just shook his head.
Victor sighed heavily as he crossed to where Kai was standing. He offered him his hand. “Damn, you did good work out there. I haven’t ever been nailed that badly.”
Hohiro agreed. “Taking down four heavy BattleMechs, with only one of your command taking any damage at all, is remarkable.”
Ragnar beamed. “Sun-Tzu wouldn’t have taken any damage if he’d done what Kai told him to.”
Sun-Tzu spun Ragnar around with a hand on his right shoulder. “I am not a little weakling to be ordered about by an inferior.”
Galen moved between Sun-Tzu and Ragnar, while Hohiro laughed. “You can hardly consider a MechWarrior with three kills to his credit today an inferior, Sun-Tzu. Your ’Mech, as well as the Catapult Ragnar piloted and Zandra’s Orion, are well-suited to long-range combat, while Yen-Lo-Wang is built for infighting.”
“Kai ordered all of us to stay back,” Romano’s son snarled, “so he could steal the glory of the kills for himself.”
Victor shook his head. “No, Sun-Tzu. Kai placed himself in extreme jeopardy to act as bait for a very well-sprung trap. I should have known better than to lead my lance straight into it. Kai used his personnel in the best possible way, taking the most dangerous jobs for himself. Had Kai not been there, you would have died at my hands.”
Shin bowed his head toward Kai. “I would also note that Kai moves with Yen-Lo-Wang as though the ’Mech were part of him. I knew, from seeing the Victor tumble, that the Centurion had to be lurking off to the right side of the canyon. Even knowing that, however, I could not follow his movement well enough with my weapons to be able to target him.” Grinning at Kai, Shin added, “I am very glad I only have to face you in simulator battles.”
Sun-Tzu snorted derisively, turned on his heel, and stalked off.
Kai blushed, then shrugged. “Thanks for the kind words, guys, but don’t forget, this was a unit exercise. My lance beat you, not me. If Zandra, Ragnar, and Sun-Tzu hadn’t softened you up—”
“—Or put us down,” Galen interjected hastily.
“—I’d have been squashed like a bug.” Kai looked at each one of the opposition lance members. “All of you are really good. We just got lucky.”
Victor rested his fists on his hips. “Give it up, Kai. Just admit you’re damned good, will you?” He looked over at Hohiro, who responded with a begrudging nod. “You smoked us, period. End of sentence.”
“No.” Kai held his up hands and waved off the praise. “I’m not that good. I’ve never been that good. In simulator battles at home on Kestrel or St. Ives, I regularly get my head handed to me.”
Cassandra laughed aloud. “At home, the only person he can beat is me, and he doesn’t think that sufficient for bragging.” She gave Kai a playful punch in the ribs, and he blushed.
Victor shook his head. In his day, Justin Allard proved himself the best MechWarrior in the Successor States by becoming the champion of the Solaris games. And Candace Liao had a brilliant career as a MechWarrior before she left the army and entered government service. It’s not that you aren’t good, Kai, it’s just that the league you played in at home was so superior that you don’t realize how special you really are.
Victor threw his arm around Kai’s shoulders. “If I may be so bold as to speak for the rest of the Inner Sphere, welcome to the world outside the Allard house league. We’re sure glad to have you on our side.”
10
STRANA MECHTY
BEYOND THE PERIPHERY
2 APRIL 3051
Having cinched the cooling vest snugly to his chest, Phelan Wolf pulled on his gunbelt and strapped it into place. He let the holster ride down on his right hip and left the ties dangling down toward his boot-top. Unable to suppress a smile, he walked from the locker room and met Natasha Kerensky a short way down the hall.
She raised an eyebrow. “You look like a Nagelring cadet who’s smuggled beer into his dorm room.”
Phelan shrugged. “That is about how I feel. I have been down on Strana Mechty for just about two months, and been training like a dog the whole time.” He stretched out his arms. “I am in better condition now than ever before, but it is almost two years since I last piloted a ’Mech. It feels like a part of me has been missing.”
Natasha shoved her hands into the small pockets of her cooling vest. “I can understand that.” She flicked a glance at the gunbelt. “So you’re one of those rocket rangers who wears a gun in the cockpit?”
The younger Mech Warrior blushed. “Yeah. Knowing that Romano Liao would do anything to take a shot at the Kell Hounds, I always felt better when armed. It may be silly to wear it for a workout in a simulator, but if I wear it in the cockpit, I will wear it in the simpod.”
Natasha shook her head. “No simulators.”
“Damn.” Phelan frowned and irritation seeped into his voice. “I was looking forward to some ’Mech exercise. I thought that was what we were finally going to do.”
The flame-haired MechWarrior laughed lightly. “No. You misunderstood me. Simulators are for children, so we don’t use them. You’ll be mounting up in a real ’Mech, an OmniMech. This will be like no other ride you’ve ever had.” She planted her hand in the small of his back and gave him a slight push. “Move it. Let’s get you saddled up.”
Natasha ushered Phelan into the ’Mech bay, but all the pushing at his back could not budge him once he had stepped into the cavernous room. Towering above him, alien and fearsome, BattleMechs filled the room. Standing ten meters high and massing as much as one hundred tons, the awesome war machines were lined up, rank upon rank, as far as Phelan could see. The gray color scheme favored by the Wolf Clan predominated, but Phelan also saw ’Mechs painted in various camouflage patterns suitable for jungle, arctic, and urban combat.
Phelan smiled at Natasha. “I’d forgotten how impressive a sight this can be.”
The older MechWarrior slapped him on the back. “It’s the guys whose breath isn’t taken away by this sight who worry me.”
Phelan studied the ’Mechs more closely. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen any like these before. I don’t recognize the designs.”
“That’s because these are OmniMechs. The designs change according to the mission.” She pointed toward one of the smaller, non-humanoid ’Mechs with a cylindrical body and legs canted back like a bird’s. Its skinny arms ended in twin muzzles. “That Kit Fox is yours for this first run. Get set up inside, and set the radio to channel seventeen. I’ll brief you as we head out to the range.”
Phelan ran up the steps to the gantry two at a time and dropped through the hatch topside of the Kit Fox. Standing in the cockpit, he secured the hatch, then looked around for the reactor switch. Wrapping both hands around the red bar, he flipped it down into the On position and locked it in place. Beneath him, in the heart of the ’Mech, he felt the thrum of the engine. The lights came on in the cockpit and the computers began their check routines just as they always did, but Phelan sensed something beyond the ordinary in this ’Mech.
He dropped into the command couch and flipped a button on the console to his right, opening a radio channel to Natasha. “Something’s screwy here, Natasha. This ’Mech looks like it masses maybe thirty tons, but the vibrations are those of some monster engine.”
He heard a light laugh crackle back through the speakers. “You’re sitting on top of a Starfire XL engine. It’s about half the weight of a conventional, but puts out the same amount of power. You’ve also got an endo-steel skeleton and ferro-fibrous armor, both stronger than normal, if a bit bulkier.”
“In other words, this box I am in is tougher, tighter, and lighter than anything I have ever piloted.”
“In a nutshell. Wait until you bring the weapons online.”
Before he could do that, though, Phelan knew he must confirm his identity with the computer. That would be the last in a sequence of steps he took to prepare himself to take the BattleMech onto the field. He settled back into the command couch, telling himself to take the procedure one step at a time, lest he forget something because of the long layoff. Drawing in a deep breath, he recalled the litany of things he must do, then started at the top of the list and worked his way down.
Phelan found the medical monitor patches and cables in a compartment built into the right arm of the command couch. He peeled the backing off each and stuck the patches onto his thighs and shoulders. Taking the cables, he clipped the rounded end to the bead on top of the monitor patch, then snaked the cable through the loops on his cooling vest. He let the connector jacks dangle at his throat.
Next he removed the cooling vest’s cable from the small pouch on the vest’s right side. Snapping it into the jack to the side of the command couch, he felt the icy caress of coolant fluid begin to circulate through the vest. Trapped between a layer of Gore-Tex on the inside and ballistic cloth on the outside, the coolant would pull heat away from his body during the exercise. That was important because the fusion engine and the various weapons produced enough waste heat to overwhelm pilots who did not have help in dissipating it.
Phelan again keyed the radio. “Natasha, I think this cooling vest may be defective. The circulation seems to work fine, but it does not feel as cold as it should. It is probably just old coolant.”
The barrage also hammered the two Kurita ’Mechs. The missiles savaged the armor on Hohiro’s chest and right leg. A rippling series of explosions crushed armor on Shin’s Phoenix Hawk, leaving the right side of its chest pockmarked with craters. A second wave of missiles, following immediately after the first, blasted yet more armor from Hohiro’s Grand Dragon and chipped away at the armor over the Phoenix Hawk’s chest and right arm.
Victor escaped the wrath of the second wave, but Galen did not. A quintet of missiles arced into the Crusader’s right knee. Great chunks of half-melted ferroceramic armor shot from the fireball engulfing the joint. The ’Mech staggered, dropping to one knee as another set of missiles struck it full in the chest. The impact knocked the Crusader sideways, but Galen caught it on one hand and kept the ’Mech from going all the way down.
The fire in the ’Mech’s chest did not subside with the end of the missile barrage. More explosions wracked the humanoid Crusader, making it shake as with a giant case of hiccups. Fire geysered from the hole in its chest and out through its spine, then a massive blast obliterated its chest and sent its arms and legs flying throughout the canyon.
“Galen’s out. Move!” Victor started his ’Mech running down the canyon toward where he had seen Kai’s Centurion. “Missiles must have breached the armor and touched off his short-range missile magazine. Move it, or we’ll get pounded by another flight of LRMs.” Victor suppressed a shudder as he realized that if Kai’s attack had hit his autocannon magazine, his own ’Mech could easily have been torn apart from inside. “Kai spotted for the rest of his lance and they brought the missiles right down on top of us.”
Victor cut around the corner into another canyon and saw, after a short distance, that it opened to the right into a broader canyon with a flat, level floor. Better yet, a ’Mech stood its ground and waited for him. “Move, guys. I’ve found them.”
His computer identified the BattleMech as a Cataphract, but Victor knew it by another name. Because the ungainly beast looked like something cobbled together from various parts of other ’Mechs, most Federated Commonwealth MechWarriors called the Liao ’Mech a “Frankenstein.” An autocannon barrel jutted forward like a lance from the center of its chest. Its right arm was identical to a Marauder’s, down to the PPC and medium laser in the boxy weapons pod that substituted for a right hand. The left arm was styled after the right arm on most Shadow Hawks, except that the medium laser was mounted on top of the arm instead of below it. That led most weapon experts to conclude that the whole system had just been transplanted with a refit on the elbow and hand. The bulbous body and birdlike legs again drew comparisons with the Marauder, but somehow the Cataphract did not offer the same menace as its predecessor.
Victor dropped his crosshairs onto the Cataphract’s outline and hit the button beneath his left thumb. Twin spears of laser light stabbed out at the awkward ’Mech. The first shot boiled away armor on the Cataphract’s left flank, letting gobbets of it drop like rain onto the canyon floor. The second carved a hot scar through the armor on the ’Mech’s head, making the pilot flinch. The ’Mech, complying with the motion of the pilot, took a skip-jump to the left, but stayed upright and brought its weapons to bear.
A bolt of blue lightning leaped from the PPC and caressed the Victor’s right arm. Molten armor coursed down the limb like blood from an open wound. The two medium lasers bracketed the assault ’Mech, each stabbing into the armor on an arm. The autocannon’s stream of slugs slashed a bar sinister across the Victor’s chest, but nothing penetrated armor to cause internal damage.
With his autocannon out of commission, Victor sent his ’Mech racing forward to beat on the Cataphract with the useless weapon. A quick blow could knock the autocannon out of commission, and being in that close would make the PPC much more difficult to aim.
Victor smiled as he raised the ’Mech’s right arm. “It’s all over now, Sun-Tzu.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. To the extreme right edge of his display, he saw Kai’s Centurion step away from its hiding place near the canyon mouth. The autocannon came up, and even as Victor tried to cut to one side, the weapon vomited out a rain of metal.
The depleted-uranium slugs hit the Victor in its already damaged left leg. The projectiles blasted away the battered remnants of armor, then zipped through the myomer muscles corded in the ’Mech’s thigh. Sparks flew as shells chipped away at the ferrotitanium femur, snapping the inorganic bone in half.
As the lower half of his ’Mech’s left leg dropped away, Victor fought a losing battle to retain his balance. The ’Mech twisted as it fell, smashing its back against the far canyon wall. The command couch’s special panels punched into Victor’s own back, crunching him between them and the restraining belts. The blow stunned him for a moment, leaving him unable to do anything but watch as Hohiro and Shin entered the canyon.
From his vantage point, Victor saw the other two members of Kai’s lance, an Orion and a Catapult, both ’Mechs with LRMs in their arms. The Catapult directed both its fifteen-missile flights at the Phoenix Hawk, while the Orion concentrated on the Grand Dragon. The Cataphract brought its weapons to bear on Hohiro, while Kai swung his autocannon around to take the Phoenix Hawk.
The missiles covered the mouth of the canyon in a sheet of flame. The explosions stripped all the armor off the Phoenix Hawk’s arms, and a subsidiary blast took out the medium laser mounted on the underside of the right forearm. Even more damaging, the missiles hitting the left arm shredded the myomer muscles in the upper arm, leaving it dangling and useless. More explosions sent sheets of armor flying from the ’Mech’s left flank and leg, with two scoring hits on the Phoenix Hawk’s head.
The Grand Dragon fared better, as most of the missiles undershot the target. Even so, they managed to whittle away armor on the ’Mech’s chest and left leg, providing the Cataphract with viable targets for its attack. Yet even as the fire condensed into black smoke, the Grand Dragon had sighted in on the Cataphract and the two ’Mechs exchanged volleys.
The azure bolt from the Grand Dragon’s PPCs lashed hunks of armor from the Cataphract’s left arm, but failed to penetrate it fully. The medium laser mounted in its left breast stabbed out and melted more armor over the left flank that Victor had previously hit, but again failed to do more than damage armor.
In return, the Cataphract’s autocannon peeled a strip of armor from the Grand Dragon’s left flank. The Liao ’Mech’s medium lasers missed their target, but the PPC made up for the misses with a vengeance.
The cerulean energy whip flayed the last of the armor from the Grand Dragon’s left leg. As it dropped away, the particle beam sliced like a scalpel into the myomer fibers in the thigh, melting them like candles. The Grand Dragon, having lost control of its left leg, started to tip, but Hohiro shifted the ’Mech’s weight back over onto its right leg and kept the machine upright.
Kai’s Centurion fired at the Phoenix Hawk from point-blank range. The autocannon’s salvo hit the ’Mech’s right shoulder, spinning it around like a toy. Sparks flew as the large laser shorted, and a string of firecracker pops sounded as the machine gun’s ammo cooked off. The Phoenix Hawk slammed into the canyon wall face-first, then rebounded and dropped to its back on the rocky floor.
Another concentrated volley of rockets brought Hohiro crashing down. He struggled to rise up again, but Kai blew the Grand Dragon’s right arm off at the elbow with a shot that could just as easily have destroyed the cockpit. The computer controlling the exercise asked if Victor wanted to surrender, and he reluctantly replied in the affirmative.
As the screens died and the hatch at the back of the simulator opened, Victor unbuckled himself from the command couch. He set the neurohelmet back on the shelf over his head, then rubbed his eyes with both hands. “What a disaster. I’m never going to hear the end of this.” He gave himself a few seconds to dream up some excuse that could explain how he’d managed to lose his whole command of battle-hardened veterans to Kai and some rookies, but nothing even remotely viable occurred to him.
Victor was the last one to reach the lounge area outside the simulator pod room. Kai was already there, flanked by his sister Cassandra on one side and Ragnar Magnusson on the other. Hohiro and Shin stood nearby, while Sun-Tzu scowled at the assembly. Galen straightened up from the drinking fountain near the door and just shook his head.
Victor sighed heavily as he crossed to where Kai was standing. He offered him his hand. “Damn, you did good work out there. I haven’t ever been nailed that badly.”
Hohiro agreed. “Taking down four heavy BattleMechs, with only one of your command taking any damage at all, is remarkable.”
Ragnar beamed. “Sun-Tzu wouldn’t have taken any damage if he’d done what Kai told him to.”
Sun-Tzu spun Ragnar around with a hand on his right shoulder. “I am not a little weakling to be ordered about by an inferior.”
Galen moved between Sun-Tzu and Ragnar, while Hohiro laughed. “You can hardly consider a MechWarrior with three kills to his credit today an inferior, Sun-Tzu. Your ’Mech, as well as the Catapult Ragnar piloted and Zandra’s Orion, are well-suited to long-range combat, while Yen-Lo-Wang is built for infighting.”
“Kai ordered all of us to stay back,” Romano’s son snarled, “so he could steal the glory of the kills for himself.”
Victor shook his head. “No, Sun-Tzu. Kai placed himself in extreme jeopardy to act as bait for a very well-sprung trap. I should have known better than to lead my lance straight into it. Kai used his personnel in the best possible way, taking the most dangerous jobs for himself. Had Kai not been there, you would have died at my hands.”
Shin bowed his head toward Kai. “I would also note that Kai moves with Yen-Lo-Wang as though the ’Mech were part of him. I knew, from seeing the Victor tumble, that the Centurion had to be lurking off to the right side of the canyon. Even knowing that, however, I could not follow his movement well enough with my weapons to be able to target him.” Grinning at Kai, Shin added, “I am very glad I only have to face you in simulator battles.”
Sun-Tzu snorted derisively, turned on his heel, and stalked off.
Kai blushed, then shrugged. “Thanks for the kind words, guys, but don’t forget, this was a unit exercise. My lance beat you, not me. If Zandra, Ragnar, and Sun-Tzu hadn’t softened you up—”
“—Or put us down,” Galen interjected hastily.
“—I’d have been squashed like a bug.” Kai looked at each one of the opposition lance members. “All of you are really good. We just got lucky.”
Victor rested his fists on his hips. “Give it up, Kai. Just admit you’re damned good, will you?” He looked over at Hohiro, who responded with a begrudging nod. “You smoked us, period. End of sentence.”
“No.” Kai held his up hands and waved off the praise. “I’m not that good. I’ve never been that good. In simulator battles at home on Kestrel or St. Ives, I regularly get my head handed to me.”
Cassandra laughed aloud. “At home, the only person he can beat is me, and he doesn’t think that sufficient for bragging.” She gave Kai a playful punch in the ribs, and he blushed.
Victor shook his head. In his day, Justin Allard proved himself the best MechWarrior in the Successor States by becoming the champion of the Solaris games. And Candace Liao had a brilliant career as a MechWarrior before she left the army and entered government service. It’s not that you aren’t good, Kai, it’s just that the league you played in at home was so superior that you don’t realize how special you really are.
Victor threw his arm around Kai’s shoulders. “If I may be so bold as to speak for the rest of the Inner Sphere, welcome to the world outside the Allard house league. We’re sure glad to have you on our side.”
10
STRANA MECHTY
BEYOND THE PERIPHERY
2 APRIL 3051
Having cinched the cooling vest snugly to his chest, Phelan Wolf pulled on his gunbelt and strapped it into place. He let the holster ride down on his right hip and left the ties dangling down toward his boot-top. Unable to suppress a smile, he walked from the locker room and met Natasha Kerensky a short way down the hall.
She raised an eyebrow. “You look like a Nagelring cadet who’s smuggled beer into his dorm room.”
Phelan shrugged. “That is about how I feel. I have been down on Strana Mechty for just about two months, and been training like a dog the whole time.” He stretched out his arms. “I am in better condition now than ever before, but it is almost two years since I last piloted a ’Mech. It feels like a part of me has been missing.”
Natasha shoved her hands into the small pockets of her cooling vest. “I can understand that.” She flicked a glance at the gunbelt. “So you’re one of those rocket rangers who wears a gun in the cockpit?”
The younger Mech Warrior blushed. “Yeah. Knowing that Romano Liao would do anything to take a shot at the Kell Hounds, I always felt better when armed. It may be silly to wear it for a workout in a simulator, but if I wear it in the cockpit, I will wear it in the simpod.”
Natasha shook her head. “No simulators.”
“Damn.” Phelan frowned and irritation seeped into his voice. “I was looking forward to some ’Mech exercise. I thought that was what we were finally going to do.”
The flame-haired MechWarrior laughed lightly. “No. You misunderstood me. Simulators are for children, so we don’t use them. You’ll be mounting up in a real ’Mech, an OmniMech. This will be like no other ride you’ve ever had.” She planted her hand in the small of his back and gave him a slight push. “Move it. Let’s get you saddled up.”
Natasha ushered Phelan into the ’Mech bay, but all the pushing at his back could not budge him once he had stepped into the cavernous room. Towering above him, alien and fearsome, BattleMechs filled the room. Standing ten meters high and massing as much as one hundred tons, the awesome war machines were lined up, rank upon rank, as far as Phelan could see. The gray color scheme favored by the Wolf Clan predominated, but Phelan also saw ’Mechs painted in various camouflage patterns suitable for jungle, arctic, and urban combat.
Phelan smiled at Natasha. “I’d forgotten how impressive a sight this can be.”
The older MechWarrior slapped him on the back. “It’s the guys whose breath isn’t taken away by this sight who worry me.”
Phelan studied the ’Mechs more closely. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen any like these before. I don’t recognize the designs.”
“That’s because these are OmniMechs. The designs change according to the mission.” She pointed toward one of the smaller, non-humanoid ’Mechs with a cylindrical body and legs canted back like a bird’s. Its skinny arms ended in twin muzzles. “That Kit Fox is yours for this first run. Get set up inside, and set the radio to channel seventeen. I’ll brief you as we head out to the range.”
Phelan ran up the steps to the gantry two at a time and dropped through the hatch topside of the Kit Fox. Standing in the cockpit, he secured the hatch, then looked around for the reactor switch. Wrapping both hands around the red bar, he flipped it down into the On position and locked it in place. Beneath him, in the heart of the ’Mech, he felt the thrum of the engine. The lights came on in the cockpit and the computers began their check routines just as they always did, but Phelan sensed something beyond the ordinary in this ’Mech.
He dropped into the command couch and flipped a button on the console to his right, opening a radio channel to Natasha. “Something’s screwy here, Natasha. This ’Mech looks like it masses maybe thirty tons, but the vibrations are those of some monster engine.”
He heard a light laugh crackle back through the speakers. “You’re sitting on top of a Starfire XL engine. It’s about half the weight of a conventional, but puts out the same amount of power. You’ve also got an endo-steel skeleton and ferro-fibrous armor, both stronger than normal, if a bit bulkier.”
“In other words, this box I am in is tougher, tighter, and lighter than anything I have ever piloted.”
“In a nutshell. Wait until you bring the weapons online.”
Before he could do that, though, Phelan knew he must confirm his identity with the computer. That would be the last in a sequence of steps he took to prepare himself to take the BattleMech onto the field. He settled back into the command couch, telling himself to take the procedure one step at a time, lest he forget something because of the long layoff. Drawing in a deep breath, he recalled the litany of things he must do, then started at the top of the list and worked his way down.
Phelan found the medical monitor patches and cables in a compartment built into the right arm of the command couch. He peeled the backing off each and stuck the patches onto his thighs and shoulders. Taking the cables, he clipped the rounded end to the bead on top of the monitor patch, then snaked the cable through the loops on his cooling vest. He let the connector jacks dangle at his throat.
Next he removed the cooling vest’s cable from the small pouch on the vest’s right side. Snapping it into the jack to the side of the command couch, he felt the icy caress of coolant fluid begin to circulate through the vest. Trapped between a layer of Gore-Tex on the inside and ballistic cloth on the outside, the coolant would pull heat away from his body during the exercise. That was important because the fusion engine and the various weapons produced enough waste heat to overwhelm pilots who did not have help in dissipating it.
Phelan again keyed the radio. “Natasha, I think this cooling vest may be defective. The circulation seems to work fine, but it does not feel as cold as it should. It is probably just old coolant.”
