"Forward, dammit! We've got to close with them!"

A sickening crash punctuated his words. A glance at the screen told him that his fears were fact. A Kurita Pantherhad landed directly atop Gamma vehicle. The thirty-five-ton BattleMech had crushed the tank's turret.

Thompson cursed as he watched the Panther'sbroad feet smash into the Rommel's upper surface. Dust raised by the 'Mech's jump jets obscured his view of the damage left by the machine's violent impact on the tank. The running 'Mechs had been a diversion to set up the Panther's"death from above" attack.

The Pantheruntangled itself from the wreckage of Gamma vehicle even as the turret of Thompson's Rommel traversed to bring its main battery to bear. The BattleMech moved in swiftly, sliding past the outthrust muzzle of the Defiance autocannon. As the 'Mech's hands seized the barrel, it froze in place, the turret's motors no match for the strength of the 'Mech's myomer musculature.

A second 'Mech, a fifty-five-ton Griffin ,landed in a flare of ion flame to join the Panther.Thompson stared helplessly as they combined their strengths to tilt the Rommel on its side. The tank's right tread dug into the earth, canting the vehicle further. Thompson was thrown from his seat as the Kurita 'Mechs began to rock the tank up and down. With a final heave, they upended the Rommel.

Seemingly content to leave the machine turtled and helpless, the two 'Mechs moved off to engage more of Thompson's regiment.

"Sir," Kelly called, hanging suspended in his restraining straps. "Are you all right?"

Thompson ached all over, but knew that complaints would do nothing to enhance his image as a tough tank commander. "I'm alive," he said flatly.

"Very good, sir," Kelly acknowledged. "I have Hauptmann-Kommandant Heany on the comm for you."

"Great." Thompson tried to switch his helmet comm to the command circuit, but all he got was a hiss of static. He ripped the faulty helmet from his head and snapped his fingers at Kelly. The CommTech nodded and handed down a headset. Thompson slid the ear piece in and opened the channel. "Thompson, Seventy-second Skye Armor, here."

"Colonel, as soon as you have secured Gether's Jewel, I want you to move your armor through DonnerBrau Forest to map reference zulu-two-three. We have broken the Legion and chased them into the forest. I have pulled Fourth Skye back to regroup and organize a net to surround the Snakes.

"Get your regiment in place along the ridge at zulu-two-three. I want to hammer them on the anvil of your tanks. Victory is near, Colonel. They are demoralized and disorganized."

"Lost the Legion in the woods, did you?”

“No need to get impertinent, Thompson," Heany retorted indignantly.

The commline hissed with electromagnetic static as a particle beam passed near Thompson's Rommel. He heard the shattering crash of a brella tree even through the hull of his tank. He knew the sound was being picked up by the comm microphone. "What the devil is going on at your end?" Heany inquired.

"Nothing much," Thompson replied sarcastically. "We're having a little visit from the demoralized and disorganized 'Mech force you lost. They're stomping my tanks into snail snot."

25

DonnerBrau Forest , Marfik

Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

14 September 3028

 

Fuhito flipped up the visor on his neurohelmet and popped a food concentrate bar into his mouth. Yuk,he thought, when will they stop making these things out of three-day-old fish?He tried to wash the taste away with a mouthful of water, but the liquid from the 'Mech's recycling system was tepid, stale, and had a faint metallic tang. Such cuisine. Even the slop in the Legion's messhall was better.

The messhall was history now. Two weeks ago, the Elsies had assaulted Massingham and forced the Legion away from its base. Since then, they'd been on the run, dodging Steiner aerospace while playing tag with the ground forces and living off rapidly dwindling supplies. The Legion had fought as well as it could. Even the ground-pounder regiments had held their own along the trees of the great forest. Again and again, the Kuritans had stung the Steiner invaders and then disappeared into the shadows of the brella trees.

Despite it all, all the sacrifices, nothing had been gained and much had been lost. Half of the Eleventh's BattleMechs were crippled or destroyed. The conventional regiments had taken an even worse pounding. Only the Eleventh and Fifteenth Armored remained as fighting forces, and most of their surviving vehicles were stranded for lack of fuel, reduced to immobile pillboxes. The Steiner juggernaut rolled on.

The Elsies were weakened, perhaps even hurt, by Tai-saKurita's tactics. Now the end was near. Expendables, especially ammunition, were running out, the supply insufficient to last more than a week of fighting, even at their reduced numerical strength. The men were worn down, almost spent.

At the morning briefing, Theodore Kurita himself had been bleary-eyed and haggard with exhaustion. But the Tai-saseemed unbroken, firm in his determination to resist the Elsies to the end. Just as the meeting was breaking up, word had come that the Thirty-fourth Infantry, who had remained in unmolested containment in Massingham, had surrendered to the Lyran forces. With them had gone the spaceport where the Legion's DropShips had stood—and all hope of evacuating the planet. Theodore had not wavered. "A setback," was all he said before ordering the planned hit-and-run tactics to continue. "We must defeat the Steiner forces."

Fuhito had been impressed with Theodore's conviction, his display of the Dragon's virtue of tenacity. He found the Tai-sa'scalmness and certitude encouraging. Though Fuhito could see no way out of the Steiner trap, he had confidence in his commander. If there was no hidden solution to be revealed when the time was right, Theodore would lead them down the path of honor to warriors' deaths. Comforted, he had led his battered company out to play their part in the Tai-sa'splan.

Now the waiting was getting on his nerves. Fuhito was used to action, movement. He understood the necessity, but that didn't make him like ambushes. He scanned among the trees, trying to spot his own men. Their concealment was excellent. He could only find Gutherie's Locust,and he had known where to look. The reduced heat signatures of the motionless BattleMechs and the screening effect of the giant tree trunks helped protect them from IR searches. Fuhito was pleased; he might not like ambush duty, but he could set a good one. A yellow flag flashed among the sparse undergrowth, attracting Fuhito's attention.

A soldier in the tan fatigues and padded brown battlejacket of a Kurita infantryman stepped away from the bole of a tree. He raised his left arm and pumped it up and down four times. He then held up both hands, fingers spread wide. He closed his hands into fists, then opened them again. He repeated the motion, but raised only nine fingers.

Twice more he opened his hands, showing seven fingers each time.

"Frak!" Fuhito cursed aloud. A full lance of four 'Mechs. If the groundpounder's estimates of tonnages were correct, nothing less than a seventy-tonner. What remained of Fuhito's recon company was outclassed. Their heaviest survivor was Busek's fifty-five-ton Griffin .

Fuhito watched the soldier disappear into the shadows. May we all have good karma, soldier, but your last life had best have been very good. I wouldn't want to be out in the woods as naked as you are when the energy weapons let loose. Old "Katana Kat" may be only a light 'Mech, but he's still carrying a lot more armor than your DCMS tans.