9. Sacrificial LAMs High above the action on the ground, Adept Cressida Davis had a clear view of the Extractors’ movements and guessed their intentions almost immediately. Alarmed at the possible consequences, she radioed Precentor Bainbridge. “Sir, the pirates are pulling back through the canyon…I think they mean for us to follow them!” Bainbridge had already spotted the enemy’s line of retreat. “We can’t let them regroup…they’ll be able to pick us off at their leisure if we have to chase them into the canyon”. Philip’s face screwed up with concentration as various scenarios played out in his mind. “Adept, do you recall if we have any other LAMs?” “Uh, just the one, sir…why?” Bainbridge hurriedly outlined his idea. Minutes later, Cressida was on the radio to Demi-Precentor de Chastelaine, requesting the release of one of her scout mechs. A short time later, the Britannia Guard’s only other Red Kite flew in from the east and formed up on her. The pair raced towards Devil’s Canyon, with Davis explaining the Precentor’s plan to her wingmate as she went. They were forced to dodge occasionally as the fleeing pirates aimed a few desultory shots in their direction, but covered the distance to their target in less than a minute. Davis checked her radio before giving her wingmate her final instructions. “Okay Lisa, begin your run to target…now!” The situation was too urgent to bother with callsigns or codenames for their improvised demi-Lance. “Roger that, Adept Davis!” Acolyte Lisa Richardson, broke right and began a long sweeping turn that would bring her in line with the canyon entrance from the opposite side, while Davis broke left, doubling back on their previous course, allowing her to time her approach to coincide with Richardson’s attack run. It was going to be very close…the Extractors were already over halfway through the canyon. Davis pushed her stick left and the rudder pedals right to bring her Kite around in a sharp, climbing turn. In the hazy blue distance, sunlight glinted off the cockpit canopy of Richardson’s LAM as she dived to just a few metres above the cliff-tops to begin her run. Christ! She’s cutting it awfully close! thought Davis. The mouth of the canyon rapidly sped towards her as the LAM ate up the remaining distance. Less than a hundred feet below, Richardson’s Kite was a blue-grey blur as it sped towards her. Coherent beams of ruby light lanced out from her wingmate’s machine and blasted into the cliff-top. The wake turbulence of the other LAM buffeted her slightly, but not enough to spoil her aim. Aiming her Kite’s nose at the opposite cliff face, Davies triggered her extended range large laser and paired medium lasers, blasting the rocky overhang with nearly her full arsenal. They swept around for another pass to inspect the damage and were dismayed to find their strafing had caused only minimal damage. “We just don’t have enough firepower!” called Richardson. “We can try another run”. “And if that doesn’t work? We won’t have time for another pass…the pirates will be through the gap”. Cressida gave a heavy sigh and closed her eyes for a moment. “I’ll call Precentor Bainbridge and tell him we may not be able to do it”. “Wait!” called Lisa, bringing her Kite to a slow cruise in formation with Davis’ LAM. “I have an idea…why not use the LAMs?” “What?” Davis looked across at her wingmate in confusion. “Why don’t we crash the LAMs into the cliffs? That’ll bring them down for sure”. Cressida couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you insane?” Lisa gave a sinister laugh. “Maybe, but I can’t think of a better way of stopping the pirates dead in their tracks…can you?” Davis had to admit she couldn’t. If they were going to do something, they had to act now. “Okay Lisa, but you’d better bloody well be careful. If you get yourself killed, I’ll be buried under paperwork for the next month!” She shook her head - unable to believe she was actually going through with this. On the other end of the radio link, she heard Richardson laugh again. “Just you be careful, sir. I don’t want to have to explain to my CO how I got a senior officer killed. It could put a serious dent in my promotion prospects”. Cressida managed a chuckle of her own. “Okay – let’s go round again”. The LAMs split again, with Richardson heading east and Davis breaking west. Checking her radar display, she saw the first cluster of red dots that denoted the leading elements of the Second Extractors were almost three quarters of the way though. It was going to be very close. On Davis’ signal, both Red Kites turned and began their terminal charges at the canyon entrance. Punching in the co-ordinates and setting the autopilot, she began to prepare to eject. She whispered a brief prayer to any deities that might be listening, hoping her ejection system would work and that Lisa wouldn’t leave it too late. Looking out of her cockpit the ground seemed very close now. The evening sun cast a long shadow that sped across the desert floor, matching its owner. One kilometre to go now. They had agreed to eject with 500 metres to go and trust the autopilots to keep the LAMs on course. She began the countdown in her head. 900…800…700…600…500…now! “Ejecting!” she called out as she braced herself, tucked in her legs and punched the button that ignited the rockets built into the back of her command couch. The cockpit canopy blew away as she was catapulted into the air, clear of her gently nosediving mech. Again, she caught the merest glimpse of a blue-grey blur speeding into the canyon from the opposite direction. A speck of white caught her eye as it arced upwards. She heaved a sigh of relief. Lisa got out okay! Just then, a thunderous roar erupted from the canyon entrance and twin fireballs blossomed out from the cliff faces, palls of black-grey smoke billowing upward like funeral shrouds for the deceased LAMs. Cressida let out a scream of triumph as she saw huge sections of rock break away from the canyon’s sheer walls. Large boulders, fist-sized rocks and rubble all combined to create an avalanche of broken stone, which cascaded down the canyon’s steep sides, rapidly blocking the narrow entrance with a wall of rock thirty feet high. Oh no! She caught sight of Lisa again and she was falling a lot faster than she should be. Her parafoil hadn’t deployed properly and the big, wing-shaped parachute was partially snagged in the control lines. Lisa spun and swayed helplessly underneath as she tried to untangle the cords. Cressida found herself unable to look away as her friend fell towards the ground at dangerously high speed. She did look away at the last moment before impact, but turned back to see where she’d fallen. Yanking on her parafoil’s control lines, she steered herself towards the grounded chute as it flapped idly in the breeze. She was coming in too fast, but she barely gave a thought for herself. All her attention was focused on getting to Lisa as fast as possible. She touched down hard, fell and rolled. Cressida gave a yelp as pain flared in her knee and ankle. Unstrapping her harness, she gingerly got to her feet, retrieved her survival kit and limped over to Lisa. She pulled the useless parafoil off her friend and awkwardly knelt beside her. Richardson's head lay at an unnatural angle and blood seeped onto the dry, dusty rock from an unseen wound. Frantic checks for a pulse and breathing drew a blank. "Oh, God, please no! Come on Lisa...come on!" Cressida whispered, tears rolling down her face as she attempted mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After several minutes of fruitless effort, she ran out of strength and willpower to continue. Cressida knelt, gazing at her friend for several minutes, putting off what she knew she must do. Slowly, with trembling hands, she gingerly felt Lisa's neck. From the slackness and odd positioning of the vertebrae, she knew it was broken. She must have died the instant she hit the ground. Cressida instinctively put her hands to her mouth, choking back a cry of grief, but was unable to stem a fresh outpouring of tears. The sounds of distant combat jerked her out of her mourning some time later. Working entirely on autopilot, Adept Davies did the only thing left, going back to her battered ejection seat and activating the built-in rescue beacon. As an afterthought she rigged a sunscreen from the remains of the parafoil, to deflect the worst of the desert heat while she waited.

10. Throwing Down The Gauntlet Miles Hendricks looked on in horror as the cliff-tops, less than a hundred metres ahead of him, disintegrated as the two land-air mechs slammed into them. The ground shook as several hundred tons of rock came crashing down in twin vertical avalanches, blocking the exit and knocking over the leading mechs like so many skittles. He felt the reverberations through his Orion’s command couch as his hand slammed down on the throttle, bringing the heavy mech to a stop. He activated his neurohelmet radio, selecting the command frequency. “Uh, General, whoever these sunzabitches are, they just brought the canyon down on us…we’re trapped like fish in a barrel!” He swallowed hard and wished he hadn’t sounded so panicky. Macready, who had been supervising the Extractors’ rearguard at the canyon entrance, was in total disbelief. “What? What the hell are you talking about?” “Sir, there’s a hundred foot wall of rock in front of us. Those crazy bastards just rammed a couple fighters into the overhangs and brought ‘em down damn near right on top of us. We can probably blast through, but it’ll take some time”. The General vented his feelings with a string of vile curses that made Hendricks cringe. “We ain’t got any time Miles. I’ve just pulled back to the canyon - they’re about a couple of minutes behind us”. There was a moment’s silence as the pair of them considered the implications of this. “So, all our units are in the canyon now?” “Pretty much”. “Then we’re screwed! If we try and fight our way out, they’ll slaughter us…” Macready, fed up with his subordinate, suppressed the urge to snarl at Hendricks. “Not necessarily. If I can get their commander to meet me in single combat, I might just be able to get us out of this”. “Sir, you can’t be serious…” “You got any better ideas?” snapped Macready, losing patience with his lily-livered subordinate. Hendricks was brave enough when the odds were stacked in his favour, but it seemed his heart wasn’t quite so stout when there was a possibility his worthless hide might be at risk. “Hold position here. I want your men guarding the canyon in the event I lose or they decide not to play ball”. The General smiled, in spite of his anger, at the thought of Hendricks and his men being the first in the firing line, should things take a turn for the worst. “Yes, sir”, replied Hendricks. He sounded subdued, already beaten. Or maybe, thought Macready, he’d resigned himself to his fate, whatever it may be. Macready set his radio to broadcast on an open frequency that everyone on both sides would be able to hear. “This is General Springer Macready, commander of Morrison’s Second Extractors, to the commander of the unidentified forces invading our homeworld. In the interests of preventing any further loss of life…and equipment, I challenge you to a duel. If you win, you will have our unconditional surrender. If I win…you and your troops will become prisoners of the Extractors and your mechs will be taken as salvage”. All across the plains and all through the canyon, combatants on both sides paused as they listened to the challenge being issued. During the silence that followed, no-one moved, it was as though both sides were holding their breath, awaiting the answer. Macready’s patience finally snapped, “So…what’s it to be? I think you’ve had plenty of time to consider”. A little over a kilometre away, out in the sweltering, dusty plains, Bainbridge contemplated the pirate commander's words in the stuffy confines of his Valiant’s cockpit. He dragged an arm across his sweaty brow, wiping it with one of the sweatbands he habitually wore on his wrists. He reached under the console and took a swig of lukewarm energy drink he always kept there. 'Its no use…I can’t delay this any longer', he thought. Philip checked his radio settings and switched to the open frequency the pirate commander was using. He was about to reply when Keira O’Reilly cut in on their private channel. “Sir, don’t do it. We’ve got them cornered. They’ve nowhere to run - you don’t need to risk yourself”. “You know what they say about cornered animals, Keira…that’s when they’re the most dangerous. If we try and fight them in the canyon, the losses on both sides will be horrendous. It seems this pirate commander has some honour and concern for his own troops after all. If we can prevent any further bloodshed then we must do so”. He tried to force some humour into his voice. “What’s the matter – you’re not worried I’ll disgrace the Guards’ good name by getting blown out of my mech, are you?” Keira hesitated before replying. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t, sir. If this pirate Macready has survived this long, it’s a fair bet he’s a pretty capable pilot”. Philip frowned. “And you don’t think I am?” “Of course not…I mean I do sir, but…” she trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words, a rare occurrence for the normally loquacious officer of Irish descent. “Look, Major, if there’s a way to end this without anyone else dying, then I’m all for it”. His words were punctuated by the dull thunder of explosions, interlaced with the sharper sounds of weapons fire. Left behind as the focus of battle shifted towards the canyon, their mechs were rocked by a few stray rounds, but were not targeted. It seemed that some pilots on both sides were letting itchy trigger fingers get the better of them. He had to make the call…now. “But, sir…” “Keira, if we follow our orders to the letter and wipe the Extractors out, especially when their commander has bargained for the lives of his men, what does that make us?” “It means we’ll still be alive, which is more than we can expect if you lose!” O’Reilly retorted. Never afraid to show her emotions, she sounded angry and afraid now. “What makes you think you can trust him? What’s to say he doesn’t have some sort of ambush planned?” “I believe Macready is doing this for his men. The Extractors are outnumbered and outgunned – and he knows it. He knows the only way out of this is to cut a deal. I may not be a Solaris hotshot or a Succession Wars veteran, but I did graduate from Sandhurst with honours, which I bet is more than he can boast. I think I can hold my own against him”. The line went dead as O’Reilly cut the link. Philip sighed and made a note to have a talk with her when this was over. He switched back to the frequency Macready had used to issue his challenge. “This is Precentor Philip Bainbridge, commander of the Britannia Guards, representing the armed forces of the Britannic Coalition. I accept your challenge. Have your troops withdraw to the canyon and meet me out here on the plain. I will order my forces to withdraw to our drop zone”. He heard Macready’s dry rasping voice in his neurohelmet’s headset. “’Bout time, Precentor Bainbridge”. The pirate commander gave a cackle of amusement. I was beginnin’ to think y’all had gotten a case of cold feet. I’ll be with ya momentarily”.