Blood on the Horizon
- Chapter 69 -[]
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Going Head on[]
Date: March 25th, 3007
Location: Tybalt, Capellan Confederation
<{"Enemy 'Mech detected! Enemy 'Mech detected!"}> Betty screamed at me as my sensors picked up on the regiment that was closing in on the fortifications.
"Shut up!" I slammed my first down on the button that muted those sorts of warnings.
<<"This is second bat,">> Sheppard reported. <<"I've got targeting data on where the enemy forces will be in about two minutes. I'm feeding the coordinates to our artillery now.">>
"Do that and get your people out of there," I ordered. "You're all in light or medium machines, you're outmassed here."
"Ballistas are prepped and ready to go, unleashing hell on designated coordinates now," the calm and collected voice of the artillery commander broke through. )("ETA to hits, one mike.")(
If I had been outside of the 70 ton war machine, I would have heard the distant sounds of thunder. Instead, all I felt or heard was the explosions just outside of the wall.
As the explosions faded, the gate began to shudder.
"Get good hits in and then pull out via Nav Point Gamma." I ordered as the gate shook once again.
The cluster of modified Hunters had already presighted their SRMs and PPCs on the gate. Their weapons intermixed with the twin Behemoth's that we'd captured from the local militia's motor pool.
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Atlas Assault 'Mech charging into combat
The gate shuddered one more time, flexing and then screeching as it warped and exploded inwards.
I inhaled as the skull of an Atlas charged through the dust cloud, a pair of Thugs flanking while the rest of the heavy company forced their way through the opening.
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Thug Assault 'Mech
I exhale and hit the open channel on my comms, shifting my 'Hammer as I glared at the assault 'Mech.
"Major Irving," I stepped forward, disarming the safeties on my weapons and triple-checking my heatsinks. "Welcome to hell."
_Green-Blue.png){kind=link}
Warhammer Heavy 'Mech firing it's PPCs
I immediately opened fire with my PPCs, the twin beams of manmade lightning arcing out across the courtyard and carving melted holes of slag into the armor plate of the Atlas. My displays flickered at the small pulse before stilling.
>>"Hull,"<< the Atlas's missiles honed in on me, only four of the twenty finding their mark along my shoulders. >>"I'm going to kill you today. Then I'm going to drag your head back to the McCarrons as a trophy."<<
I moved into medium laser range and ducked under a burst of autocannon and SRM fire as the tanks opened fire, the Behemoth's holding the line so that the Hunters could pull back through the clustered buildings of the base.
The more we pulled back, the more of the 2nd Mac pushed into the base, the remnants of the battalion that had been mulched by artillery being dragged in by the remainder of the regiment.
"Come on," I muttered, covering the rear and continuing my high-stakes duel with the Irving. "Keep pouring in," I grit my teeth as half a burst of autocannon racked against my missile rack, rocking me back. "Peterson, I hope you set the charges up properly," I coughed into my mic as I through myself back, bracket firing to keep the enemy at bay.
After the missile rack, one of my PPCs went out next, the wire display of the lefthanded Donal PPC graying out entirely as sparks flew from the weapon.
And then, as the burst of autocannon fire broke open my armor and began to shear away some of the internals of my 'Hammer I made it out of the walls.
"Light them up," I ordered, limping my 'Mech away as fast as I could after the vehicles that had already escaped.
After first encounter[]
A few hours later…
"We can't keep up this sort of pace for much longer," Sheppard sighed. "Our supplies are still strong, but the people…" he trailed off, glancing at the sheer amount of walking wounded that we had.
"I know," I sighed. "Mithril saved most of our people's lives, but that doesn't mean that we didn't take casualties."
Most, if not all of our infantry and tankers were injured in some form or fashion. We hadn't taken the personnel losses, but when two thirds of your forces are injured, then it becomes harder to fight.
"Sir, you should probably get checked out in the med tent," Sheppard grabbed me by the shoulder when I made to head into the 'Mech repair bay we'd set up. "You were the last out. Even if just the 'Mech was damaged, you never know what kind of minor injuries you might have picked up."
"What's one more TBI to go around?" I snarked.
Sheppard didn't smile.
"Just go get yourself checked. Then go get some rest. The post-combat crash hasn't hit yet, but when it does, you're going to be dead on your feet, just like the rest of us."
"Just make sure the good coffee's in the pot," I turned for the med tent. "I have a feeling we're going to be up fairly late."
Rumors & Proclamations[]
Back at the base, the 2nd Mac moved to chase, but instead the ground broke open underneath them as a chain of explosions detonated, dropping the courtyard and filling it with inferno gel.
A lone grinning skull shined white amidst the burning hellscape that was the Fusilier's base. The 'Mechwarrior within growling angrily as he waited for his 'Mech to cool off enough for him to move once again.
Fortunately for the 2nd Mac, inferno gel wouldn't be able to actually kill the rest of the regiment. Unfortunately for them, another company of 'Mechs had been nearly destroyed when the ground gave way underneath them.
The 2nd Mac had been broken down to merely a functioning battalion, and due to the hit and run tactics of the Marksman, no one on their side knew how much damage they'd done to said mercenary unit.
So when the transmission came, the 2nd Mac took the opportunity to surrender. Major Irving was never seen again, and mysteriously, his Atlas seemed to vanish from the unit as well.
There are rumors of what happened on that day, but no one has ever fully found out the story. Some things, are better left to the mystery of history.
<<"This is Colonel Jaime Wolf of the Wolf's Dragoons to all Federated Suns forces that remain on Tybalt. Your reinforcements have arrived. Stand by and prepare for relief. McCarron's Armored Cavalry, you have one chance to surrender. If you should decide not to do so, then we will finish whatever it is our compatriots started. Wolf, out.">>