11. Duel In The Desert Bainbridge shuddered involuntarily as beads of sweat trickled down his chest, back and arms. If it was hot out in the desert, it was nothing compared to the sauna his Valiant’s cockpit had become, despite the mech’s good heat dissipation. However, his discomfort was mainly due to the information being presented on his HUD and secondary monitors. Punching out that pirate’s cockpit with his gauss rifle hadn’t been a smart move. Some debris had lodged in the barrel, jamming the ammo feed mechanism and several heat sinks were also damaged, making the Valiant run hotter than normal. His damage display also told him he’d lost a good deal of front and rear torso armour. He was also down to his last few salvoes of missiles. All in all, he was beginning to wonder if Demi-Precentor O’Reilly hadn’t been right about just finishing these pirates off and be done with it. But looking out of his cockpit viewscreen he could see it was already too late for that. In the shimmering distance, he could just make out what had to be Macready’s mech, slowly but determinedly making its way towards him from the canyon mouth. At this range, the heat haze made it impossible to identify with the naked eye, but his targeting computer told him it was a PLG-3Z Pillager – a heavily armoured assault mech armed with twin gauss rifles and an array of lasers. The sweat on his body suddenly went cold, making him shiver, at that bit of information. Stood alone, out in the middle of the plain, the pirate commander had surely already spotted him. If he turned and ran now, he would not only disgrace himself and his unit, but could also possibly trigger a bloodbath if the pirates sensed they had been double-crossed. The fingers of his gloved right hand deftly worked the joystick buttons to select the LRM launcher located in the mech's right torso and tie it to his thumb trigger. With his left hand he worked the targeting controls, bracketing the oncoming pirate in a red triangle on his HUD. The Pillager was just over a kilometre off now. He concentrated on the low tone coming through his helmet’s earphones, waiting for it to change pitch, signalling that the Artemis fire control system had locked on. The seconds ticked by with agonising slowness as the two combatants closed the range. There! The buzzing in Philip’s ears changed to a high-pitched whine and on the HUD his crosshairs flashed gold. Without conscious thought, his thumb hit the fire button and the Valiant shuddered as fifteen long-range missiles left their launch tubes. In the cockpit of the Black Rhino, Macready cursed as his warning systems detected the launch. The Pillager was a simple, if powerful mech. With neither ECM or an anti-missile system with which to confuse or shoot down the incoming missiles, all he could do was increase his speed and get inside their minimum effective range as quickly as possible. Less than ten seconds later, the missiles slammed into the pirate mech, scoring hits on the right arm and all over the torso. The Pillager, moving at flank speed, stayed upright mainly thanks to its momentum. Its heavy armour absorbed the force of the detonating warheads easily, although the impact jolted Macready around in his command couch. Bainbridge’s throat went dry as he watched the pirate mech shrug off his missile attack with apparent ease. Judging from the dust clouds it was kicking up, Macready was going hell for leather to close the range. His HUD informed him the missile rack had reloaded. The fire control system was still locked on and he hit the fire button again, sending another salvo of missiles at the pirate commander. Macready let rip with another stream of obscenities as his threat indicators lit up again. Bracing himself for another battering, he continued relentlessly forward as a second storm of missiles pounded away at his armour. Checking his damage display didn’t improve his mood as he saw yellow patches covering his right arm and torso. He checked his range indicator. Good! Any moment now… The other mech’s ECM was playing havoc with his targeting systems but he watched carefully how it moved and placed his crosshairs slightly in front of it. Squeezing his primary trigger, the Pillager rocked backwards as a pair of hundred and twenty-five kilo, nickel-ferrous projectiles were fired from the barrels of his gauss rifles, accelerated to hypersonic speed. Bainbridge was caught off-guard, not expecting the pirate to return fire so quickly. By sheer good fortune he was side stepping a rock pile, which caused one slug to miss, instead obliterating the rock formation he’d just dodged round. The other round caught the Valiant squarely in the left torso, punching through his remaining armour and destroying the pair of medium lasers housed there. Power circuits shorted and caught fire and a steady stream of greyish-black smoke poured from the jagged hole. Philip was slammed back in his seat as the mech’s torso twisted violently under the impact. He began thinking furiously. His mech couldn’t take much more abuse like that. He scanned the landscape, looking for any terrain features that might help. Nothing was immediately apparent. He returned his attention to his approaching foe. Selecting his LRM launcher again, he dropped his crosshairs over the Pillager’s bulky silhouette and waited for the fire control system to report lock-on. As he hit the trigger, the Valiant rocked gently as the last round of missiles blasted from the torso-mounted launcher. The LRM15 icon began flashing red on his HUD’s weapons display. “Ammunition depleted”, chimed the battle computer, in its emotionless electronic voice. Macready braced himself yet again and rode out the storm as another volley of missiles peppered his mech. Checking his damage display he saw part of his torso and right arm now showed red. With a savage curse he prepared to unleash another barrage of gauss-assisted death on his enemy. He was too slow though. Even as he lined up the shot, the other mech rose a short distance on fiery trails of plasma, just enough to throw his aim. Jumpjets! He cursed mentally. By no means unheard of, they were still rare on assault mechs. As it sailed through the air, it brought its right arm to bear on him. Twin beams of ionised particles lanced through the air and struck the Pillager’s right torso and arm, vapourising armour and internal structure, though not disabling any weapons. “Warning, damage critical”, the Black Rhino’s computer informed him. His secondary displays were temporarily filled with static as the high-intensity electromagnetic discharge overloaded the mech’s electronics. Pale blue, flickering, man-made lighting danced over the Pillager’s exterior.

12. Desperate Measures “Heat level critical – shutdown imminent”. Bainbridge knew he was in trouble as soon as he heard the computer’s latest warning. Firing both the Valiant’s paired PPCs and using his jumpjets simultaneously had taxed the remaining heat sinks beyond their capacity. He’d used up all his coolant during the earlier fighting – all he could do was wait for his mech to bleed off the excess heat. Bringing the Valiant to a halt, he managed to avoid a shutdown, but it made him a sitting duck for several vital seconds, during which Macready doggedly brought his Pillager about. Philip pushed his throttle to the stops as he saw it’s massive arms rise to a firing position, but the Valiant was still running hot and responded sluggishly. He’d never be able to dodge this time. Springer crowed triumphantly as he saw the other mech struggling to move. Taking careful aim he tied both gauss rifles to the primary firing trigger and squeezed. This time both slugs found their mark. One blasted though the thin armour protecting the Valiant’s LRM launcher, wrecking the internal structure. Philip counted his blessings that he’d run out of ammo just moments earlier. The second slug shattered the armour plating on his right arm. The thunderbolt impacts sent the Valiant reeling backwards and Bainbridge had to fight both the controls and feedback from his neurohelmet to keep the giant war machine upright. Two more sections flashed red on his damage display, but on his weapons display, the gauss rifle suddenly lit up, indicating it was operational again. Philip blinked in surprise. Maybe the impact jolted loose whatever was jamming it, he thought. Whatever the reason, it was time to let this pirate have a taste of his own medicine. He dropped his crosshairs over the Pillager’s centre torso and loosed off a snapshot. His aim was off though and the slug found the pirate mech’s right leg, shattering much of the armour plating. Macready, surprised by the quick riposte, felt his mech stagger, unbalanced by the loss of armour. Regaining control he tied all his laser weapons to the primary firing circuit and cut loose. With the range now under 300 metres it would have been difficult to miss. Four thin beams and one larger beam of ruby coherent light reached out like fiery talons to vapourise armour from the Valiant’s centre torso. Intent upon finishing his foe, Macready continued to close the range and fired his gauss rifles as soon as they were reloaded, paying little heed to the accuracy of his shots. Bainbridge’s evasive manouevres caused one slug to miss, though the other impacted on the Valiant’s centre torso, obliterating the remaining armour and breaching the internal structure. “ECM disabled”, warned the computer. Wary of overheating his mech again, Philip restricted himself to firing a single PPC in reply. He was surprised but gratified to see a small explosion and an uncontrolled, pale blue energy discharge erupt from the Pillager’s right torso as the shot breached the remaining armour and destroyed the gauss rifle mounted there. Macready screamed in anger and pain, trying to block the wave of neural feedback that threatened to render him unconscious. Certain weapons, when destroyed, sent uncontrolled surges of energy though the mech’s electrical systems, which in turn were sent via the neurohelmet, straight to the pilot’s brain. Gauss rifles, which were powered by magnetic coils, were one such weapon. Shoving his throttle fully forward, he charged at his opponent, fully intending to ram him. Bainbridge realised the pirate’s intent and dodged with just a few metres to spare. Macready countered by extending the Pillager’s right arm and aiming a punch at the Valiant’s damaged centre torso. The barrel of the large laser mounted in the right arm drove deep into the Valiant’s already-damaged internal structure, smashing the gyro housed there. Philip felt his sense of balance desert him as the massive assault mech unbalanced and began to fall on its back. Wedging himself in his command couch, with his back and neck braced for impact, he hoped the couch’s stabilisers, which prevented excessive movement, would protect him from serious injury. The Valiant crashed to the ground in a cloud of sand, dust and rock fragments. Alarms sounded and warning lights flashed across the command console, as the mech’s rear armour and various internal systems were either damaged or destroyed. Shaken like a rag doll in the mouth of a Rottweiler, Philip pressed himself into the couch as hard as possible, eyes screwed shut. He let out a cry of agony as sharp pains lanced through his neck and spine. He was almost on the verge of passing out when suddenly the world stopped moving and all became relatively calm. Eyes still shut, he was dimly aware of the computer’s litany as it detailed all the damage that had been done to the mech. He tentatively tried moving his neck and back. Relief flooded through him when he discovered that, although in a great deal of pain, he seemed to be fully mobile. Slowly opening his eyes, he discovered the cockpit seemed to be mostly intact, aside from some overloaded and burnt-out controls and damaged monitors. His view of the outside world, however, was almost completely obscured by the layer of dirt, which covered the mech’s relatively small cockpit windows. The master and battle computers still seemed to be functioning though, so he began running system checks to see if there was any chance of getting his mech back on it’s feet. Springer Macready let out a yell of triumph as he watched his opponent crash to the ground. He slowly advanced his mech forward, waiting for the dust cloud to clear. As the air cleared, he saw the dust-covered form of the battered Valiant lying prone on the ground. As he moved towards it, he activated his neurohelmet radio and checked he was still on the open channel they’d used before the fight. He wanted everyone to hear the moment of his victory. “Well, you fought a good fight, son. Now I’m gonna give you the end that every good warrior deserves”. He brought the Black Rhino to a halt at the feet of Bainbridge’s downed mech, like an assassin taking one last look at its victim. Macready angled the Pillager’s arms so that his lasers were aimed at the Valiant’s cockpit. “If you’ve got any last words, I’d say ‘em real quick if I was you”, he went on in an almost conversational tone. Philip’s mind froze with horror at Macready’s words. He couldn’t believe the man intended to kill him in cold blood while he lay helpless in his cockpit. Squinting out of the dust-covered canopy, he could just make out the Pillager as a dark shadow against a lighter background. Suddenly he saw a bright flash and for a heart-stopping moment he thought Macready had delivered his coup de grace. Then he realised it was the sun glinting off the pirate mech’s cockpit. An idea struck him. A quick scan of his weapons display told him the twin PPCs in his left arm were still operational. He yanked on his control stick and the arm jerkily moved across to focus on the pirate’s cockpit, its damaged actuators screeching in protest. As he did so he tied both weapons to the primary trigger. In a moment of bravado that would later make him cringe, he checked his com system was still functioning and that he was also broadcasting on a open frequency. “You want some last words, Macready? Enjoy your stay in Hell!” Even as he spoke, he was surprised how level and steady his voice was. Philip experienced a moment of complete calm and tranquility, as people sometimes do when they are beyond fear and past caring what happens to them. He closed his eyes and felt himself relax as, without conscious thought, his finger tightened on the trigger. Nothing happened. "Target inside minimum range", reported the computer. "Crap!" Bainbridge swore as the fingers of his left hand danced over the keys of the battle computer, typing in the commands to disengage the PPCs' field inhibitors. These safety mechanisms prevented the particle cannon from being fired at close range, which could damage the weapons. "Warning, field inhibitors disengaged, weapon damage probable". Ignoring the computer’s warning, he held his breath as his right forefinger squeezed the trigger again. Macready blinked as he saw the Valiant’s arm move, unable to believe what he was seeing. The moment’s hesitation was all the time Bainbridge needed. The last thing Springer Macready saw was an actinic blue light that seemed to engulf the entire world.