7. Feeling the Heat Dead Sea Plains, Tantalus, The Rack, The Periphery, 25th August, 3068 Bainbridge couldn’t believe it. They’d accounted for nearly an entire pirate company without sustaining a single loss themselves. Still, shock tactics would only work for so long. Now it was time to call in the cavalry. He opened up the divisional command channel. “Three Bravo and Three Gamma, advance on nav point Beta and engage at your earliest opportunity”. Checking his tactical display, he saw that Osborne and Three Alpha were in danger of being destroyed piecemeal by the pirates. “Alan, time to get out of there. Fall back to Nav Alpha – we’ll cover you”. “Sir, can’t disengage…we’re surrounded…n…” the rest of Alan’s response was lost in a wash of static, probably resulting from an energy weapon discharging in close proximity. “Alan…Alan! Get out of there! Do you copy? Al…if you can hear me, please respond!” Icy talons gripped Philip’s chest, though he tried to ignore the anxiety rising within him. Osborne might be okay and it might just be a radio malfunction that kept him from communicating. On the other hand… He switched channels on his radio. “Command, you are free to engage at will!” He knew his half-dozen cumbersome assault mechs were not suited to close range combat, but to give Alan and his troops any chance of escape, he needed to provide a diversion until Three Bravo and Three Gamma arrived. The missile carriers hung back, firing their LRM racks until they were out of ammo. The problem was that with the battle now a fast-moving melee, the missiles hit friendly units, nearly as often as the pirates, prompting numerous angry curses and cries to cease-fire over the Division’s radio net. Meanwhile, the Command Level II, which included his Valiant, a Fusillade, a Marauder and a Warhammer, ponderously closed the remaining two hundred metres with, what seemed to Bainbridge, agonising slowness. The Command unit's considerable firepower tore through the pirate ranks and for a while it looked as though victory could be imminent, but for every enemy mech downed it seemed that two more took its place. The whole plain was a mass of moving machines, interspersed with flashes of weapons fire and explosions. Several mechs from both sides suffered critical reactor failures and disintegrated in golden fireballs. The smoke-filled sky was dotted with the escape pods and parafoils of ejected pilots. Bainbridge drove his Valiant remorselessly through the press of pirate mechs encircling the embattled mechs of Three Alpha. Through a gap in the fighting he spied Osborne’s battered Crimson Tiger – a relatively new assault omnimech, equipped with twin extended-range particle cannon and a plethora of lasers. Alan’s mech was missing its left arm, depriving it of a large laser, as well as large patches of armour plating. Smoke poured from its torso, indicating internal damage. With his long-range weapons useless, Philip fired his torso-mounted pulse lasers and swung the Valiant’s heavily armoured arms like clubs, punching and kicking, knocking aside one pirate mech after another. It struck him that the bulk of the enemy forces seemed to be made up of medium and heavy mechs, most of them extensively patched up and modified. The few assault-class machines he could see presumably belonged to unit commanders. Suddenly, he found a battle-scarred pirate Warhammer blocking his bath. Unable to use its long-range weapons, the pilot fired his medium lasers into the torso of Philip’s Valiant, burning off over a ton of armour. In reply, Bainbridge fired his own pulse lasers, following up with a punch to the pirate’s centre-torso, shattering much of the remaining armour protection and a kick to the left leg, damaging the actuator. The kinetic energy imparted by the attack unbalanced the mech and in spite of the pilot’s best efforts, it slowly toppled backwards, slamming into the ground and throwing up a could of dust. Philip looked over at Major Osborne’s Crimson Tiger again, just in time to see it go down under a hail of autocannon and laser fire from a pirate Marauder, gyro damage robbing Alan of any control. Before he could react, Keira O’Reilly’s Pendermech stepped in to protect her fallen comrade, it’s autocannon and lasers blazing, severing the Marauder’s right arm. Its pilot stubbornly fought on and to Philip’s horror, it raised its left foot and trod on the back of the downed Coalition omnimech. Sparks and smoke erupted as the giant foot smashed through the mech’s thin rear armour, destroying internal systems. O’Reilly was forced to back away, though she continued to trade laser and cannon fire with the pirate. Acting purely on instinct, Bainbridge drove his mech towards the Marauder. The pirate, his attention fully focused on Keira’s Pendermech, never saw him coming. As Philip came in from the side, he drew his mech’s right arm back, then lunged forward in a punching motion. The last thing the pirate saw, was the Valiant’s gauss rifle arm smash through his cockpit viewscreen. With difficulty, Bainbridge wrenched his mech's right arm out of the smoking wreckage of the Marauder’s cockpit. Without the pilot to control it and with its only means of support removed, the pirate mech crashed to the ground like a puppet with its strings severed. He stared at it for a moment, strangely devoid of any emotion. When he looked around him, O’Reilly had vanished, swept up in the whirling dance of combat once again. He checked his tactical display. The situation was desperate now. The remains of Three Alpha had been dispersed and swallowed up by the massed forces of the Extractors. If his reinforcements didn’t arrive very soon, they would have nobody to rescue.

8. Mercenary's Gambit Dead Sea Plains, Tantalus, The Rack, The Periphery, 25th August, 3068 Being in the thick of the action, it took Bainbridge several moments to work out what was happening. Hearing a number of whoops and cheers on the battalion radio net, he torso-twisted frantically, trying to figure out what was getting his troops so excited. Then he heard a familiar voice in his neurohelmet’s headset. “Apologies for the delay, sir, but its rather hard to do a cavalry charge through a bloody rock field”. Philip smiled as he recognised the voice of Demi-Precentor Patrick Donohue, commander of Three Bravo. “Good to hear you Pat. Now if you can just get these damned pirates off our backs, I’ll buy all your chaps a round when we get back to Wellington”. He heard the mirth in Donohue’s voice as he replied. “Never fear, sir – the Marauders are here”. Just then he heard another new voice as Robyn de Chastelaine, announced her arrival, along with the rest of Three Gamma. “The Iceni are ready to do battle, sir. Engaging immediately”. Bainbridge was suddenly aware that the meleé he’d been embroiled in was thinning out. Pirate mechs were streaming away from the centre of the battlefield. A hurried glance at his tactical display told him that they were being pushed back on the flanks too. The arrival of Three Bravo and Gamma had caught the Extractors by surprise, as planned and forced them to fall back. He stared in mute horror as the full extent of the carnage was revealed. There appeared to be over thirty pirate mechs, destroyed or disabled, scattered over a radius of several hundred metres. Even worse was the sight of the remains of Three Alpha. Fewer than a dozen mechs remained - all damaged to some degree. Dead Sea Plains, Tantalus, The Rack, The Periphery, 25th August, 3068 “Stand fast, dammit!” Macready shouted over the regimental com-link as he watched the Second Extractors fall back under the Guards’ flanking manouevre. On his tactical display he saw gaps open up in his lines as elements began to retreat back to the canyon. “Alvarez, Hendricks – get your men back here or I swear I’ll kill you both with my bare hands!” he barked into his neurohelmet radio. “Sir, Major Alvarez is dead!” called a panicked voice over the radio net, that Springer did not recognise. Macready swore. “What about Captain Powell?” Another voice came on. “Haven’t seen him since he went off to lead that flanking attack, General. His unit was probably cut off by the enemy reinforcements”. Macready immediately recognised the growling tone of Sergeant Erik Kasprowicz, one of his most experienced and trusted men. “It doesn’t look good sir. We stretched ourselves too thin trying to take that first unit out quick and now we can’t concentrate enough fire to hold off these newcomers. I think it might be wise to pull back and regroup, sir”. Macready wanted to snarl an immediate rejection of that suggestion, but the logic of it, coupled with Kasprowicz’s respectful tone forced him to think it over. “Fine. Where’s Captain Hendricks – is he still with us?” “Heading for Devil’s Canyon last time I saw him, sir”. “Lousy son of a bitch! I’ll give him a reason to run if I ever see him again.” Just then an enemy Centurion crossed his field of view and opened fire. The Black Rhino shuddered as a stream of autocannon slugs stitched a diagonal line of craters across his Pillager’s front torso, eliciting another stream of profanities from Macready. He tracked the enemy mech, torso twisting to keep it in his crosshairs. Selecting both gauss rifles, he squeezed the joystick’s primary trigger. The hundred ton mech lurched slightly as it was pushed in the opposite direction by two quarter-ton nickel ferrous projectiles accelerating to hypersonic speed. They impacted on the Centurion’s right torso, obliterating the armour protecting its flank. The mech staggered under the assault, but its pilot recovered and beat a hasty retreat. Having given himself time to think, he slowed his mech to a halt and switched his radio to the battalion command frequency. “This is General Macready to all Extractors, form up on Captain Hendricks and First Battalion. Regroup on the other side of the canyon and prepare for a counterattack”. He switched to First Battalion’s command channel. “Hendricks!” he barked. A worried sounding voice answered. “Yes, sir?” “If it wasn’t for the fact you’re right where I need you, I’d kick your ass to Caldarium and back! “Sir?” “Listen, you pathetic excuse for a mech jock. When this is all over, you and me are gonna have words. Until then, I’m putting you in charge of our withdrawal. Pull our troops back through the canyon and set up so you can pick off these sons of bitches as they follow us through”. “Yessir!” “And Hendricks…” “Sir?” “Screw this up and I promise, I will kill you…comprendez?” “Uh…yes sir. Don’t worry sir, we’ll whip these bastards real good”. Macready gave a sarcastic snort as he cut the link and began to direct the Extractors’ rearguard.