Jurassic World: Dominion Dominates Fandom Wikis - The Loop

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Chapter 37

Prologue, Book 2, The Hammer Falls

MechWarrior under heavy fire

Salomek, Sarna
Sarna Commonality
Capellan Confederation
April 12th, 3057

“WATCH YOUR NINE, GODDAMIT! OH SHI-” Mechwarrior Jaden Hoss’s speakers blared in alarm from with the aggravated voice of his lance commander. But the last bit was disconcerting, was his Lance commander just busy? Or was he dead?

“Shit” he muttered as he wrenched his mech to his left as he turned just in time to face the facade of a ruined building that exploded in a massive cloud of grey dust, masonry, and girders as a Capellan medium weight Vindicator BattleMech emerged behind the cloud. Hoss grabbed both triggers, at first, sending rounds and beams of azure light into the rubble circulating around the Vindicator’s feet.

Calm down, Hoss, or you are going to die here, in this godforsaken craphole of a town I never want to see again, even in my nightmares.

Hoss backed his mech off from the intruder, it’s dark copper colors contrasting with the garishly large McCarron’s crest taking up half of the Vindicator’s torso, as ground ferrocrete and ruined rebar fell in torrents off the angles of the ‘Mech. The Vindicator’s torso turned, and the right arm, which was little more than a tube attached to a stub of an arm, began to glow a bright cerulean radiance that soon reached out as a man-made thunderbolt at Hoss’s Enforcer, striking it in the left arm with a thunderclap and a river of scorched armor plate that fell in a groan of protest to the ruined street below.

Shit, he’s packing an ER PPC. Ok, let’s see how he likes my reply. Hoss brought both of the arms of his ‘Mech again and triggered his autocannon. Scarlet tracers reached out from the hammering of his Federated Autocannon and intersected explosively with the Vindicator, tearing out gouts of armor plate as the rounds stitched a line from the left hip to the right shoulder.

The Vindicator righted itself, and backed off, firing it’s lasers wildly at Hoss’s ‘Mech. Maybe he’s running a bit hot, surprised he didn’t use his PPC again. Hoss cautiously walked after him, sending ruby colored beams from his ChisComp Large Laser in the general direction of the Capellan ‘Mech. Something isn’t right about this. Why back off, unless…

The insistent hooting of a proximity alarm, and the threat detection suite created a cacophony that instantly riveted Hoss’s attention. His heart raced and sweat began to pour even more than the hot confines of a ‘Mech in combat usually led to. Dammit, I found the rest of his lance! Three buildings were smashed apart as dormant ‘Mechs emerged from them, in the same color scheme as the Vindicator Hoss has just exchanged shots with. Blackjack, Falcon, and oh shit…a Warhammer.
Warhammer (Night - Farseer Animation).jpg

The Warhammer had barely cleared the building when it triggered both of its PPCs. One went wide, and the other cobalt colored beam smashed into the right leg of Hoss’s Enforcer, the impact rattling the ‘Mech and warrior inside it like a pinball stuck in a cascade of impacts with the bumpers. Hoss keyed his radio “Any friendly call signs, this is Crescent Two-Five, am engaged with a lance of Capellan ‘Mechs. I say again, three Capellan ‘Mechs at the corner of Alfrek and Holdmanton. Burst transmitting grid ref now. Need assistance soonest. Out!”

The rest of the Capellan fire went wide, smashing storefronts and facades with childlike ease. The lance's firepower sent rubble tumbling into the street. The pavement was scarred with the constant movement of ‘Mechs over the last five days, and who knew if anyone had been buried under the heaps of rubble, that now changed hands daily.

Hoss triggered his jump jets, seeking to get lost in the urban canyons and hoping to split up his pursuers and have something resembling a fighting chance. How in the hell am I going to kill a damn Warhammer? I mean, I only have 80 rounds left for the gun, then I’m down to a pair of lasers. Neither of which are shall we say, “Blessed with ummpf.”

Hoss’s ‘Mech grounded with a shudder as it landed in a nearby street, it’s forest green and brown camouflage paintwork now crisscrossed with a mix of pockmarks and singed armor plate from the glancing hits that the Enforcer took during its brief flight. Hoss glanced at his right MFD, where a 2D representation of the ‘Mech’s armor and structure was presented. Most of my armor is yellow or green, though the right lower leg is orange. Ok..not too bad considering I almost played pop-up target for an entire Cappie lance.

The sound pickups detected the footfalls of the Capellan lance. Crap, they’ll find me based on a likely computation of my flight path. Gotta hide. Hoss scanned his surroundings visually. There was a building that had had it’s front torn open from the inside, it was gutted from the first to 12 floors, and was tall enough to hide Hoss’s ‘Mech. The only problem was, the heat signature. Any good FLIR is going to pick me out, if their MAD gear doesn’t. He then spied a downed Phoenix Hawk bearing the “Deadly Dancers” insignia of Gamma Regiment. Ok, good question? Are there any friendlies around? Did the block just change hands again?

The footfalls were getting closer. It was time to hide and Hoss deftly ducked his ‘Mech inside the remains of the building, then hurriedly shut the ‘Mech down. Please don’t let them find me. If they do, I’ll probably have just enough time to scream before they kick my head in.

The fighting on Sarna had lasted for ten days. The 12th Vegan Rangers had grounded with 4 regiments running about 90% strength. By now, they were down to two regiments barely running 85%. And as for the Kestrel Grenadiers? Well they’d contented themselves with raising what hell they could in McCarron’s rear, and had at least one regiment of his chasing down the Grenadiers. But the other Capellan regiments hadn’t gotten off scot free either. Word was, McCarron’s regiments were running about 70% strength each.

The fighting was brutal, to put it mildly. No quarter had been asked or given by either side, and the only things left alive in Salomek at this point were the rats, feral dogs, and those combatants on both sides whom fate hadn’t seen fit to cut short their time on this plane of existence. Hoss reached back into a locker just above the right shoulder of his command couch and fished out a ration cracker, which he proceeded to nibble on while he waited, he hoped, for the Capellans to pass him by. Damn, what a mess. Am I gonna see tomorrow? How about the next five minutes? Hoss was gripping his stick so hard with his right hand that his knuckles of his fingers were turning white. The insides of his fingerless gloves and his neurohelmet were slick with sweat, and the pit in his stomach only seemed to say, please don’t let me die here.

Hoss took a moment to listen to his surroundings, the boom of far off autocannon fire, the whine-crack of a PPC discharging, and the footfalls of a ‘Mech perhaps running toward battle or running for its life. The situation was confused, and there was not a distinct frontline, often buildings changed hands two or three times a day.

We’ve got another two, two and a half weeks before things get desperate, I hate to think General Stancel might have to seek terms thought Hoss.

A set of footfalls drew closer, the building began to shake. Oh crap, have they found me?

Battle for Sarna, Part 1 - Sarna Under Seige

Sarna, Part 1

Attacking Units: 12th Vegan Rangers (all four regiments), 1st Kestrel Grenadiers
Defending Units: McCarron’s Armored Cavalry (all five regiments), Sarna Home Guard

The 12th Vegan Rangers grounded on Sarna on April 2nd, 3057 and quickly set up a perimeter around the small city of Salomek to await further help from follow-on FedCom units. They were immediately hit on three sides by four regiments of McCarron’s Armored Cavalry (the 5th was kept in reserve), and the 12th’s Delta Regiment was overrun after 72 hours of hard fighting, with the remaining three regiments withdrawing into Salomek proper, anchoring their defense on a ring of low hills that made up most of the “Old City” The hills overlooked the “New City” across the White River, a tributary of the Grey River that ran to the south. The 12th dug into the hills and fortified the urban center of the Old City as best as they could, blowing all six bridges across the White River behind them. McCarron’s Armored Cavalry soon followed them across the river and launched several abortive battalion sized assaults to take one or more of the hills that comprised the Old City. The Sarna Home Guard was also kept in reserve to protect Backtal and Sarna City.

One of the more notable actions was the assault by 3rd McCarron’s to take a sluice dam where one of the larger hills known as Prince Hill, met the White River. 3rd Battalion, Alpha Regiment, 12th Vegan Rangers held off the entire 3rd McCarron’s Regiment for three days before a counterattack by the rest of Alpha into the teeth of the 3rd Regiment that gutted both regiments on the aptly named “Plain of Red Tears” ended the most serious threat to the 12th’s perimeter in this phase of the battle. After this, that sluice dam was known to both sides as simply “the Damba.”

After this assault, McCarron satisfied himself with rotating his regiments into and out of the fight, probing the lines of the 12th and launching company and lance sized raids into the 12th’s perimeter. Places like the “Crayon Factory” and the “TAV Hostel” entered military history as they changed hands five and six times between the two sides in a matter of days. Once the 1st Kestrel Grenadiers arrived on April 9th, they began a campaign of raids and mobile actions to draw off some of the MAC and managed to lead the 5th MAC Regiment on a wild goose chase that continued for most of the battle, occasionally turning and smashing isolated companies when they strayed too far from the rest of the regiment.

When asked by the Small World Theatre HQ what the status of his command was, General Tom Stancel simply responded by FAX. “Issue in doubt, send help soonest.”

Nova Cat Stalking the Jaguar


CNC Thunderbolt, Blacklion Class Battlecruiser
Clan Nova Cat Warship
Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
April 13th, 3057

"Your defeat has been foreseen by the children of Drummond and Rosse, Smoke Jaguars! With what forces will you contest the inevitable course of Fate?"

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CNC Thunderbolt, Blacklion Class Battlecruiser

Star Captain Sofia Rosse stood in the back of the flag bridge as Khan Severen Leroux spoke the ritual words of the batchall and sent it winging toward Avon at the speed of light. Her bones felt the vibrations of the trio of massive Carston Pegasus engines driving the battlecruiser after their words of challenge at the head of Alpha Galaxy's invasion flotilla .

Unconsciously she touched the fang of the Nova Cat that she had hunted as part of her sibko training that she now wore as a pendant for luck as she waited for the response.

She then chided herself for showing stress as her Clan went to honorable war and straightened her spine as she glanced at the holodisplay showing the map of the shared occupation zone and neighboring systems. Tendrils of shining blue marked with the codes of Alpha Galaxy leapt from their capital of Irece to hit Avon as the primary target of their prong of Operation CAT'S CLAW. Delta Galaxy's codes leapt from Jeannette to take Hyner, Kabah, Staplefield,and Jeronimo, linking two of the three 'pockets' of the Nova Cat occupation zone by ripping those worlds away from the faltering grasp of the Smoke Jaguars. Meanwhile, Sigma Galaxy struck from Mualang to claim Yamarovka and Asgard, completing the link-up.

Involuntarily her eyes flickered to the angry scarlet of the Combine spinward and rimward as the battle computers redrew the map showing the best estimates of enemy strength and identification as picked trinaries performed 'informational raids' on the systems around Pesht to distract the Combine's eyes from the first stages of CAT'S CLAW and gather intelligence for the next stages. Then, unwillingly, her jade-green eyes turned anti-spinward to the ice blue and white of the Ghost Bears flanking the lone Nova Cat held world of Courchevel.

The Combine was distracted fighting itself and the blood-maddened Jaguars. So would be slow to react before the first wave attacks could happen and the preparations for the CAT'S FANG followups could be completed to isolate and take Pesht from the Combine. But what would the Bears do? Aff, sooner or later, they would stir and when they did... The Jaguars were showing once again the folly of a war on multiple fronts and unlike their blood enemies, the children of Rosse were able to learn and adapt to changing circumstances.

A chime sounded and Sofia snapped to attention, her thoughts refocused to the present as the galaxy map redrew itself to a blinking Smoke Jaguar symbol as the return message waited. The holodisplay flickered and revealed the face of the Smoke Jaguar commander of the garrison of their primary supply base as behind him visibly injured warriors moved around with unseemly haste. A helpful label at the base of the screen revealed his name as Star Colonel Paul Moon' as the dark-skinned Elemental scowled at the unwelcome message.

"You dare!", Moon snarled, his face mottling with rage. "Treacherous carrion-feeding freeborn scavengers, come and face us if you dare and we will eat your entrails, surats!" He picked up a half-full bottle of some amber liquid and threw it at the screen, which fuzzed and went black.

The Khan nodded to himself and spoke dryly. "Bargained well and done. If he wishes a grand melee to purge his worthless excuse for genes from the pool, so be it. Our reports indicate that the Third Jaguar Cavaliers are the primary garrison force as they reform with two or three trinaries reconstituting from their losses on Luthien with unblooded sibkos. Second-line warriors brought forward in haste, and isorla salvaged from the battlefields there. Hardly their best, but be wary....the Jaguar is never so dangerous as when it is dying. Proceed as planned."

Ready to Drop

Clan Nova Cat Assault Dropship, Sacred Trust
Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
April 15th, 3057

"Man your 'Mechs, Warriors!" Sofia ordered, unconcerned by the brutal 2G thrust the ship was laboring under at military power as it drove toward Avon. "We hover-drop at 10,000 meters, then form on me to advance onto the ridgeline over Stratford to provide fire support for the rest of the First Guards. As they lure the Cavaliers into a battle of mobility. They will attack in a blood rage like they always do, and then we close the jaws on them. They have called a Grand Melee, so concentrate fire by Stars to destroy them quickly and efficiently. Are there any questions, quineg?"

"Neg, Star Captain!" her warriors responded

"Seyla!" Sofia responded

With that, Sofia turned to the Mad Dog II waiting for her. At 60 tons, and braced on its backward-jointed 'chicken-walker' legs, it seemed deceptively fragile, explaining why the Spheroids called the older model a 'Vulture'. Appearances were deceiving as it had a full nine tons of advanced armor on its endo-steel bones as one of the first 'new model' Mad Dogs to walk off the Irece factory floors into the touaman of the Nova Cats.
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Mad Dog II Heavy OmniMech

She surveyed the jet-black painted Omnimech proudly, her eyes drawn to the incandescent midnight purple starburst on the forward-jutting angular torso squarely between the twin missile racks that comprised the sides of the Mad Dog. Below the starburst her 'Mechs name was given as 'SOFIA'S VISION' in that purple paint with the first and last 'I' in the name as the slit eyed black pupils of matching neon green cat eyes. The arms were nothing more than a barrel for her preferred deadly accurate 10cm pulse lasers.

Satisfied, she turned to her Technician standing at the lift to take her to the top-mounted cockpit. "Honor to you and your crew, Technician Mara. She is beautiful, and a worthy steed for a ristar such as I. Now strap me in and we shall teach the Smoke Jaguars the lessons of war."

With Mara's help she lowered the neurohelmet over her braided shoulder-length blonde hair (part of the DNA from her Vickers genesire legacy that the Nova Cats had won rights to from the Wolves a century ago) and then gave Mara a handshake in thanks.

"Good hunting and good luck, Star Captain." The Tech spoke as the canopy began to lower.

"Skill and Honor, Mara." Sofia responded before the hatch closed. She then flipped the switches to bring Sofia's Vision to life. Static filled her ears briefly, and then the recorded voice of her primary sibko instructor, Warrior Mhari snapped at her in a no-nonsense tone that instinctively caused her to straighten.

<<"What is the first lesson, kitten?">>

Automatically Sofia replied. "Clarity of purpose reveals the truth of all things through all veils."

<<"Reactor online, sensors online, weapons online. Honor us, Sofia Rosse.">>

Sofia's mind flashed back to the memory of the elderly face of her instructor as the ancient woman (nearly sixty!) sobbed in gratitude at the request to have her voice recorded to serve as a reminder of her training to the Clan's newest Bloodnamed warrior.

Sofia flicked on her command circuit and spoke. "Points, report status."

"Alpha Striker Deuce, all green." Sofia's eyes flicked across the mechbay to the ten-ton heavier Nova Cat Alpha with its humanoid body on the chicken-walker legs and the arms holding clusters of paired advanced 8cm lasers. Good, Alex is ready as our sniper.

"Alpha Striker Trey ready."

"Alpha Striker Quad ready."

Sofia nodded as the twins Hina and Risa chimed in from their Nova Cat Bravos. Unlike the Alpha, this OmniPod configuration had the laser barrels and heat sinks replaced with masses of long-ranged missile tubes and ammunition bins. The hammer to Alex's rapier.

"Alpha Striker Quint prepared for combat, Star Captain." The final member of her Star spoke softly from her Shadow Cat Prime. Star Commander Desha in her fifteen tons lighter wedge-shaped scout mech with the advanced electronics mated to the right-arm Gauss rifle and left-arm 5cm lasers would be their eyes and ears as they performed their mission. Despite her quiet voice and dainty appearance, Desha would fight like a soaking wet wildcat when the time came.

"Skill, trothkin. Stand by for orders." Sofia flipped channels. "Stars report status for combat deployment."

"Bravo Striker Star prepared for deployment. Already ahead of you. " Star Commander Nytara smirked at her commander in the viewscreen, toying with her matching fang necklace saucily. Clearly a 'friendly reminder' in the Circle of Equals to her sibkin would be in order before making the recommendation to advance her for the next available Guerette Bloodname.

"Charlie Nova combat capable." Nova Commander Mirka Winters' alto rumble sounded from her Elemental suit. The ice to Nytara's fire, Mirka would be the rock upon which the Jaguars would be broken.

"Remember the plan is there for a reason, quiaff? We fight as one, trothkin. Assume drop positions and deploy as planned."

"Aff, Star Captain!" her unit said in unison.

On the Battlefields of Avon

Devon Highlands
Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
April 15th, 3057

"Dragon, two o'clock! Two blips behind it, analyzing now." Desha's calm voice sounded in Sofia's ears as the first Smoke Jaguar 'mech crested the ridgeline ahead of them as a orange blob in the cool blues and greens of the rainstorm that they fought in. Cyan beams of light from her right skewered it as it oriented itself upon her as the apex of the triangle thrusting into the Jaguar flank.

A wave of heat evaporated sweat from Sofia's body as she stomped the right pedal down hard. Fusion exhaust jets blasting as she dodged out of the way of a volley of missiles followed by an azure whip of lightning from the enemy heavy. Her hands moved to put her crosshairs on the rent Alex had just put in the barrel-chested 'mech's torso armor and even as missile explosions shattered armor along the left side of her Mech, her thumbs pressed the firing triggers. Rapid-fire bolts of violet light skewered the ex-DCMS Mech and it burned a brilliant white on her IR as the reactor shielding melted. Secondary explosions ripped the Mech apart as the missiles cooked off and the pilot ejected.

"Dragon neutralized. Report Desha." She snapped out, glancing at the amber dots on her armor diagram, and instinctively twisting to present her less-damaged right side to the advancing enemy.

"First one is assault weight. It is a stravag Warhawk. Second is heavy weight as well. 83% chance of an Guillotine IIC half a kilometer behind it."

"Aff. Pop and drop left to taunt the Warhawk to pursue over the ridgeline, Desha. Hina, Risa, fire once I have it marked, hammer it down. Alex, shift right and stand ready to engage the Warhawk once marked. Desha, report immediately if the Guillotine wishes to bid itself in before we finish with the Warhawk."'

Sofia slammed the throttle to the stops to charge forward to the ridgeline as her subordinates' replies echoed in her head. Internally her gut twisted at the thought of being the first thing the enemy Assault would see upon clearing the obstruction, but needs must.

Sofia breathed in and out deeply to center herself as Desha's Shadow Cat rose vertically on plumes of fusion flame, firing the Gauss Rifle at the unseen Warhawk as soon as she cleared the ridgeline, before hastily cutting the jets. A trio of PPC bolts speared where she had appeared followed by missile trails diving toward the Shadow Cat as Desha evaded fire from a machine nearly twice her weight.

A furious female voice sounded over the speakers as the ground shook under 85 tons of war machine at full charge. "Cowardly surats! Face me, Star Captain Jez Howell, if you dare to oppose your betters!"

Time slowed as the block-shaped torso of the Smoke Jaguar assault appeared in front of her. Jez twisted slightly to face the advancing Mad Dog as steam rose where the rain hit her glowing-hot PPC barrels.

To Sofia, that moment between two heartbeats lasted for eternity. The curling wisps of steam rising from Howell's PPC barrels froze; the diamond perfection of the raindrops falling toward her cockpit halted with one exploding from her armorplast in a perfect Clan daggerstar; the sweat-dampness of her fingerless gloves gripping the control sticks was one with her skin. That eternity was easily enough time for her hands to move by themselves and settle the crosshairs on the shoulder joint of the Warhawk as Sofia stared into the rage-maddened eyes of the Smoke Jaguar Bloodnamed through the armorplast of their cockpits and saw into her with calm understanding and pity.

One did not hate a maddened animal that had to be destroyed, but merely regretted the necessity.

She pressed her thumb triggers again as time suddenly resumed, followed by her left index finger's trigger as she slammed both pedals to the floor, taking flight on jets of ion fire. Purple bolts of light hammered the thick hide of the Assault 'Mech in front of her, melting armor around the shoulder joint, followed by a small missile spread from her left side launcher.

Return fire slammed into her lower body as, surprised by a Mad Dog that could jump, the Warhawk pilot aimed too low. Two bolts of electricity converged on her right leg, savaging it and blowing the foot clean off as the third shot rocketed below her flying form and missiles crashed against her left leg.

The cockpit screens flickered and fuzzed with the electrical surge through her 'Mech while she gracefully landed like a nova cat two hundred meters from the Warhawk. Mhari's voice sounded in her ears as the static of the PPC discharges cleared up. <<"NARC beacon deployment successful.">> The bright scarlet IR signature of the Warhawk suddenly glowed with a blue highlight.

"Finish her, trothkin!" Sofia commanded sadly, as her hands clenched on both joysticks' finger triggers. Sofia's Vision shuddered in recoil as the Mad Dog II belched out a cloud of thirty SRMs from all her torso launchers that headed toward the siren song of the NARC beacon attached to the enemy mech. Behind her, Risa and Hina joined in with a hundred and eighty LRMs between them in a trail of fire and death linking their 'Mechs to the doomed Smoke Jaguar. The missile contrails were joined by Desha's Gauss slug and Alex's lasers as the combined firepower and teamwork of Alpha Striker Star, Fifth Striker Trinary, First Nova Cat Guards (The Hand of Fate) shattered Star Captain Jez Howell's Warhawk Prime like it were made of glass.

Chapter Section by Yellowhammer

Deep in the Draconis Combine, Planetary Assault over Dover

Dropship DCA Hiryu
Dover, Kajikazawa Prefecture
Benjamin Military District
Draconis Combine
April 18th, 3057

Space folded around the Hiryu, and then with a thud that was felt through the ancient hull, the Overlord DropShip undocked from the Jumpship that had brought it across the stars. Thrusters gently maneuvered it away, and then the massive fusion torch flared to life, as the ship formed up as the vanguard for the assault force heading to the planet from the L1 pirate point between it and its moon.

On board the command deck the captain glanced at his female passenger in a Mechwarrior cooling vest with the unit insignia of a full moon behind clouds staring at the main holotank as it blinked, showing a triple wedge of dropships boosting toward the planet ahead. Ruby chips speckled the screen as aerospace fighters were launched from their bays to assume flanking positions.

He then cleared his throat and spoke. "All ships report undocking complete, Coordinator. ETA to assault orbit is...three hours. No transmissions from the surface yet."

A nod was his only response from the muscular young Japanese woman as she stared at the screen while carefully and methodically tying a hachimaki headband to confine her pixie-cut hair away from her face. Ice-blue eyes narrowed slightly as she finished, then Miyako Kurita returned to trying to bore a hole in the viewscreen with her cold gaze.

The elevator opened and a middle aged man in Mechwarrior uniform walked to her side. The light from the displays sparkled on the apple-green katakana number four showing his rank as a brigadier general along with the red disc of the Bushido Blade. He crossed to her side and lowered his voice. "Kurita-sama, the latest intelligence is that Chu-sa Smythe is holding out in the Wakazashi Industries factory with the loyal elements of the Sixth Benjamin."

Silence was his answer as the minutes ticked on. He bowed and then strapped into an acceleration couch.

"Status change! ASF launches from planetary bases!" The report caused a ripple across the command deck that flowed around the focused figure of Miyako like water around a boulder. The holoscreen blinked and redrew itself with blue dots forming up into squadrons as they headed for the Hiryu and the other dropships.

The captain looked at the figure of Miyako staring at the screen. She nodded once and he relaxed minutely.

"Assume anti-ASF defense cordon formation! All fighter wings punch a hole through! Stand by for heavy maneuvering!"

The growl of the Hiryu's engines grew into the scream of a furious dragon as two and a half gravities of thrust slammed into the bridge like the hammer of an angry god.

Through it all, Miyako stayed in her position at the holotank, with just a clenching of her white knuckled fist by her sides as the first specks flashed and vanished like fireflies in the evening in the holotank as machines burned and men died. Soon the combat was replaced by the thudding hammer of the dropship's autocannons and missile batteries as it flew into the dogfight.

"Stand by for zero gravity and rotation! Turnover in T minus FIVE..FOUR...THREE...TWO..."

Miyako's hands grasped the rail around the holodisplay as the drive cut out and the she ship spun. Her focus continued to be on the holodisplay even as the ship shook under the hammering of weapon fire on the armor and reports of desperate combat flooded the bridge.

"Begin braking burn, stand by for emergency military thrust!"

Gravity re-exerted itself as the engines fired and Miyako gave an involuntary hiss of pain as she collapsed to the deck under the force of two and a half gravities. Her lips thinned as she slowly pulled herself upright to resume her prior position.

"Sir, the Soryu!" sensor operator shouted to the Captain

The display blinked to show Hiryu's sister ship, with oxygen fires licking among the blown-open compartments and with a dead drive as it hurtled onward toward the awaiting planet. Miyako stood upright, and took a deep breath, her eyes glued to the doomed ship and the battalion of men on board.

Her lips moved in a whisper as the screen faded to black. "Kishi kaisei."(I wake from death and return to life)

With that she turned and surveyed the bridge with a cold stare. "We are through their fighter screen. Prepare for drop to relieve our loyal samurai. Do we have identification of the traitors?"

The captain glanced at the data pad. "Tactical analysis is that the fighters were from the Dragons of Teak and Jade. Although the Teak Dragon was ordered to fight the Jaguars..."

He trailed off as Miyako's expression hardened and her eyes blazed with rage and pain. Her words came out in a frigid, controlled hiss. "Both are here in contravention of the Dragon's will. There is only one penalty for treachery. Sho-sho Shodaru!"

The general unbuckled himself and saluted. "Hai, Coordinator-dono!"

"Relay the message to our forces. Ryuken-san will avalanche drop on the Wakazashi factory to relieve the loyal elements of the Sixth Benjamin, crush the Teak Dragon and establish a spacehead there for our heavy equipment. Ryuken-ni will act as orbital reserve to reinforce as needed."

Her lips curled in a savage smile as she finished. "As for the Dragon of Jade, their fate will be to be consumed by Ryuken-yon. Sho-sho Shodaru, our regiment has waited for thirty years to avenge the betrayal of Tetsuhara-sama on Misery by the Eighth Sword of Light. Our vengeance is now at hand."

She began to walk to the elevator to the Mech bay, gesturing for him to follow.

"Leave no traitor alive." she commanded

Story Section written by Yellowhammer
  • Note from Author : Miyoko Kurita is the daughter of Isoroku Kurita..and cousin to Omi Kurita.

Kestrel SitRep on Sarna

1st Kestrel Grenadiers Mobile HQ, 8km NW of Svoboda
Sarna Commonality
Capellan Confederation
April 19th, 3057

Marshal Agatha Stromp sighed as she looked over the situation map on the holo table in her Mobile HQ. The 12th is dying by inches and Archie McCarron smells blood. You’d think he’d have offered Tom Stancel the honors of war by now. Guess nobody’s in the mood for that right now. She sipped her cold coffee contemplatively. Not bad Sargent Major, I see your “training” of Corporal McTavish goes well.

“Alright, boys and girls, we’ve probably done all we can here. Drawing off one regiment of the Big Mac was all well and good, but I want to make them come at us. Where’s a good place?”

Her S-3, a Leftenant General with a prominent widow’s peak and a hawklike nose by the name of Shemp, shook his head. “Ma'am, with all due respect. There’s shit all we can do here. McCarron won’t take the bait, and even if we wreck the 5th, well, Archie’s part of the CCAF now. He’ll just see it as the cost of killing us. But he won’t turn and do that until he’s done with the 12th Vegan. No, if we want him to come after us with more than the 5th MAC? We must hit something that will make them sit up and take notice.”

Agatha smiled. “OK, how about Sarna City?”

The S-2, another Leftenant General with the nametape of “Jenkov” with long grey hair tied up in a bun, and piercing blue eyes seemed to pin her commander with them. “No Ma'am, with respect. Our strength projections have a good chunk of the Planetary Guard there. We couldn’t get out of there before the 5th caught us and then smashed us between them.”

Shemp smiled. “We have a better plan, Marshal. A much better plan. We plan on turning on the 5th again, and smothering them with our fire support assets, we’ve been saving the ammo for a rainy day. We then detach the Mounted Grenadiers, have them cross the Straights of Losar here-“ pointing to a point on the situation map. “-and hit the Tengo Aerospace plant at Backtal.”

“Isn’t that splitting the regiment, Shemp?” a look of concern crossing Stomp’s face.

“It is ma'am, but if we want to make the Capellans react, this is a way to do it. We may not like the reaction we get though, so we’re going to have to stay mobile from here on in if we execute this plan.”

Stromp smiled a feral smile. “Ok, Shemp, get with Jenkov’s boys and girls and write this up. I haven’t approved it yet. But let’s see what the nitty gritty looks like. We’ll reconvene in 6 hours.”

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