Instinct proved correct. A door led to a veranda where Lori could sprawl against a mound of rubble, gulping down air. The woman lying beside her recovered slowly. It was Sue Ellen Klein, apparently unhurt, but haggard and dazed. Her uniform was torn, and her arms and hands stained with blood.
Beyond the rubble barrier, the clash of armored giants continued, their weapons like lightning and thunder and hell's own fury.
* * * *
Powerful, confident, undamaged thus far in the struggle, the Warhammerof the Command Lance, Company A, First Battalion, 3rd Strike Regiment, strode past the blocking wreckage and into the center of the Court. The Bannockburn fired round after burning round into the advancing monster's chest. Clay's Wolverineopened up from behind, pouring white fire into the Warhammer’sflank. The rest of the company's ‘Mechs crowded through behind it—another Archer,lasers flaring, a Phoenix Hawk,another Wasp.
A deafening explosion smashed Grayson forward in his control seat, and blue fire scalded his bare left arm. He spun the Marauderand faced a new threat. Another Archer,the odd, forward-thrusting shape of a Jenner,and a pair of Stingerswere crowding through the entrance to the lower level. A Wasplimped heavily, showing where an anti- ‘Mech commando had struck it with a satchel charge, but the tunnel’s defenders had not been able to withstand this new rush.
He fired, PPC lightning flickering across the Archerand the Jenner.Machine gun fire rattled across the open cockpit panels, and Grayson backpedaled the Marauderout of the line of fire and into the Courtyard proper. The Warhammertargeted him at once. Twin PPC bolts splashed across the Marauder'slegs, and Grayson screamed as his face burned in the light. He returned the fire, still screaming, saw his bolts striking home in coruscating flashes of fire and glittering fragments of metal.
The Courtyard was filled now with BattleMechs struggling in the smoke. An Archerbattled hand-to-hand with Clay's Wolverine.Grayson's captured Marauderand McCall's Riflemanstood back to back atop the burning ruin of the Courtyard barricade, as the enemy BattleMechs advanced from two directions. The Shadow Hawkjoined them, firing bolt after point-blank bolt into the torn and broken armor of the advancing Warhammer'storso.
A new roar crashed and rumbled from overhead, and something heavy smashed into Grayson's open cockpit. He looked up, startled. The Central Tower of the University was wreathed in fire, and smoke was billowing from open windows halfway up its height.
More debris fell, splashing into the Courtyard. The fire,Grayson thought. The fire in the lower levels! It must have spread! There was enough wood in the framework, under all that stone, that the whole tower must be in flames by now. The place was burning down over our heads and we didn't even notice!
The Kurita ‘Mechs closed in.
* * * *
Tollen Brasednewic had planned to lead the hundred-odd men of his original band to the Uppsala Mountains to continue the fight, but he never left the Fox Island camp. Instead, he listened to the growing thunder in the distance, a thunder barely audible above the keening of the jungle chirimsims. The words he'd exchanged with Grayson Carlyle still burned...the humiliation still burned...But what was right?
He'd painted his refusal to help as a matter of honor as well as practicality. The rebel army—those men and women beyond his original small band—would no longer follow him, not after that mercenary offworlder had publicly criticized him. Inside, though, Tollen wondered if he were more enraged by the fact that his relationship with Carlotta had become public. With that, Old Family and Immigrant alike would be reluctant to follow him now.
Wouldn't they? And was it honor or pride...or his own unreasoning fears that kept him from finding out? The truth of the matter was that he didn't knowif any in the Verthandian rebel army would follow if he gave the order to attack Regis.
Somehow, his anger against Grayson Carlyle had become a smaller thing. As the sounds of battle rising from the capital became more urgent, he gathered his original band and gave orders to saddle up a company of hover transports and move out. They would travel south, toward Regis, not to the west.
The main body of the rebel army had been waiting in some confusion ever since word of the Gray Death's commando raid had spread among them. Individual company commanders had been uncertain what to do. Even the Verthandian ‘Mech lance, led by Rolf Montido, had done no more than gather along the edge of the Bluesward at the crest of the Basin Rim. With neither orders nor clear leaders, they'd been helpless.
When Brasednewic swept past them in the lead hover transport, Montido's Dervishrelayed the signal. All units...follow!And the Free Verthandi Rangers had swept down on Regis.
By the time they reached the outskirts of the city, the Gray Death ‘Mechs that had been arrayed outside the walls of the AgroMech factory had been driven back into the University Compound. Brasednewic had barked orders over the rebels' combat frequency. They couldn't afford to get pinned down in a firefight outside the University. Instead, the column split, each side swinging toward a different gate in the city wall. With luck, at least one column might be able to force its way through to join the fighting inside.
Montido's Dervishsmashed through the gate Brasednewic had targeted with his group, scattering Blues and Brownjackets with its sudden rush.
"The way's open!" Brasednewic yelled above the battle roar. "Gun it!"
With a keening whine, the hovercraft angled toward the door. Through billowing smoke, Brasednewic glimpsed struggling throngs of people and uniformed soldiers beyond.
* * * *
Grayson's PPC savaged the Warhammertwice more, stopping its advance in mid-stride. Khaled joined the Shadow Hawk'slaser fire, shearing away smoking chunks of white-hot armor plate. The 70-ton Kurita ‘Mech hesitated, one PPC raised to fire directly into Grayson's cockpit from fifteen meters away.
Sparks danced and jittered along the battle scars in the Warhammer'storso. The Draco pilot couldn't fire! His weapon circuitry had been destroyed, and he couldn't fire! The enemy's PPC resumed its upward swing, and the heavy ‘Mech took another step forward, its deadly purpose starkly clear. It was going to use one of those heavy forearm cannons as a club.
Desperate, his head reeling from pain and loss of blood, Grayson triggered both PPCs under the enemy heavy's upraised arm. Lightning flared and crashed. A fireball rolled up from the Warhammer'sshattered chest, and the armored giant staggered backward, collapsing in a blazing, twisted tangle of BattleMech junk.
Grayson whooped victory through scalding air that seared his lungs, hut the triumph died in his throat as he glanced at the shattered main gate. Another BattleMech force with Kurita markings, a full company at least, was pouring through and into the Courtyard, each machine fresh, undamaged, and combat-ready.
One of them, a Jenner,fired. A missile burst on the Marauder'shull. Grayson ducked low as hot shrapnel seared into the cockpit. He looked down in surprise and saw blood drenching his left arm and side. At that moment, Grayson wished he had a working radio. It would be nice to say, "This is it," or "It's been good fighting at your side," or any one of the other cliches that a Mech Warrior might utter at a time like this. He wished that he might see Lori again, too. She'd said she loved him! He wished...