DRASCTIS 4

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Die Rettungsaktion - A Story of the Concertverse Inner Sphere
- Chapter 4 -

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Waiting til the End

Planetary Defense Command
Bolan City, Bolan
Principality of Bolan/Marian Occupation Zone
7 March 3034

There was scarcely a moment to rest at this point in the campaign. With time ticking down and military intelligence confirming Marian reinforcements were en route and would touch down by the end of the month, if not sooner, the order was given to end the evacuation. Now the Arcadian troops were beginning to contract their perimeter slowly, buying time for straggling evacuees to come in. Within four days, they would be lifting off.

Despite misgivings from Admiral Andros, General Armstrong herself permitted Brigadier van Reiter to leave Thomas in the frontlines, which was why his company was now in position at the Bolanese Planetary Defense Command. While the PDC was linked to the perimeter and had been for weeks, the focus on the other operations meant it was still as manned as when the Arcadians showed up. That would end today. Inside combat engineers from both services were making the final demolition procedures while on the outside the non-essential personnel and some of the remaining combat troops pulled out via APCs and commandeered vehicles.

"We came just in time," Dani said over the radio. "If we hadn't shown up, I doubt they'd still be here."

"Probably not. But it's best not to say anything," he replied.

"Didn't plan to."

Thomas split his attention between his personal screens and the tac-comm lines. The Marians were pushing aggressively not far from here, trying to fight their way to the major Bolanese factories, but their troops were putting up a stubborn defense now that they had Arcadian-provided supplies and repairs to fight with.

"They're fighting awfully hard for a delaying action."

So they are. What are the Bolanese up to?

The vehicles that came out now included cargo trucks bearing damaged yet serviceable VTOL craft. A line of repaired 'Mechs in the colors of the Principality Guard followed. Whatever their capabilities before the invasion, the Bolanese MechWarriors who survived the siege carried themselves like veterans, and Thomas would welcome fighting at their side any day.

Phoenix Hawk LAM Medium 'Mech, in AIRMECH mode

His systems identified a particularly unique machine, a Phoenix Hawk LAM. He keyed over to the agreed-upon comm channel with the Bolanese. "Your Highness, good to see you in health."

"Your Highness. A pleasure to see you again, and my prayers for your noble brother's recovery." Princess Amita's voice was carefully toned as ever, her English spoken with a distinct Bolanese accent. "We are almost complete with our preparations. I will remain here until the last of our troops withdraws."

"Then we shall remain too," he replied. "My orders are clear in that regard."

"So they are. I admit that I welcome a company of BattleMechs with Star League technology as an ally, if only we had fielded such machines months ago things might be different."

The comment sounded innocent, but Thomas heard the edge in it. Nor could he be surprised. Had we come six months ago, we might have thrown the Legions off Bolan. We might not have saved the Principality, but we might at least have saved Bolan.

It wasn't that simple, of course. The invasion hadn't been expected, and the Arcadian military was already in motion surging rimward to make a border with the Mariks. Given the near-dozen jumps between those worlds and Bolan due to the placement of inhabited systems, they would've never arrived before October, perhaps November, well after most of the damage was done.

And it implied Arcadia could throw them back, a prospect that the recent weeks' fighting showed to be difficult. For all the disgust the Marians' embrace of slavery enkindled in the Arcadian people, their martial prowess was regrettably undeniable.

In the end, he let the comment pass without a word.

They waited in some silence as more vehicles and 'Mechs passed. In the distance a great explosion flowered over the Bolan skyline, quickly joined by more. Thomas watched with some incredulity at it. The Galatine couldn't be firing into the city, could it? Could the Long Tom even wreak such havoc?

Long Tom Artillery piece

"They succeeded. Good."

Amita's remark drew his attention back to her. "Succeeded at what, Highness?"

"My forces have set off demolition charges in our BattleMech factories. The Marians have inherited naught but rubble." Her voice had a bitter edge. "I will not deny we did not use those factories wisely, but the Marians would be even more undeserving of their output."

I can't disagree with her there, Thomas thought, and on both counts. Bolan caused so much trouble with its 'sell to anyone' policies…

As time passed more units came by, bearing battle damage. Thomas realized they must have been the forces holding the factories long enough for the engineers to do their work. Now they marched on to guard what proved to be the last convoy. After another ten minutes, several more APCs and personnel vehicles pulled out of the PDC.

"The charges are set, Your Highness. We should depart."

"Agreed. We'll take the rear."

Amita's 'Mech made a nodding motion. She and a lance of surviving Bolanese 'Mechs continued ahead of the last vehicles. Thomas' company took up the rear. As they got to the half-kilometer mark, the city around them lit up from a fireball, such that Thomas was certain the center of the Bolanese military was no more.

Bolan's industries are rubble now, as is the heart of her military. The soul remains though. I wonder how Imperator Sean will take it...

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Enemy Laying Siege to the LZ

Arcadian Landing Zone
Near Bolan City, Bolan
Principality of Bolan/Marian Occupation Zone
15 March 3034

Brigadier Rayhan of the 1st Dar-es-Salaam Cavalry stood on the command deck of the AFMS North Star and kept his eye on the clocks. They were running behind schedule for the liftoff due to the excess number of refugees that made it through before the Marians closed off all the roads into the LZ. Now packing all of these people into the North Star and the other transports was taking up time, valuable time, while his regiment's embarkation was being hopelessly delayed.

He noted a call come in for him from the Galatine. At a button press the cold blue eyes of Major General Armstrong were directed at him. "Brigadier, what's the status of your loading?"

"Delayed, General. We're still processing the last refugees, and I've had to send ship's crew to help keep them from fighting for space aboard."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's imperative we launch in conjunction, do what you can to get them aboard and get your units embarked. Armstrong out."

Rayhan bristled. There was little he could do that didn't involve simply refusing to board more refugees, which might start a riot and make things worse. All he could do was pass down the order to his subordinates to do everything possible to expedite the process.

"We are held back by the need to balance their food supplies with our own," a lieutenant said from nearby. "Perhaps we should just them board? If we run low on edibles we can ask the other ships for more."

Fortress Class DropShip

"If we just let them come aboard they will be an even greater nuisance," Rayhan replied. "This must be done with organization. See to it."

He returned his attention to the scene outside of the North Star and the other ships in the Dar-es-Salaam Cavalry's LZ. With the carriers providing top cover he'd already had the unit's fighter wing recovered and stowed on the transports. Damaged 'Mechs were likewise aboard, but the remains of his infantry and the other 'Mech units, as well as the artillery, were all still deployed. Given the skirmishing around the perimeter, he couldn't afford to bring them back in until they were ready for liftoff. Which had to wait while the refugees were processed and assigned spaces aboard each ship to avoid overcrowding.

He was just about to ask about their progress when a call came over their tac-comm links. "Command, this is 1st Battalion Company Bāʾ, enemy forces attacking on our sector, we need assist—" The line cut abruptly.

While the North Star didn't have the command facilities of a Fortress-type DropShip, it did have a rigged holotank on the bridge for ground command capability. Rayhan gestured to it and an NCO dutifully went to work. The holotank came alive, showing a section of his unit's perimeter. Red icons surged through a screen of blue ones, numerous enough that it was clear that a major Marian counterattack was underway.

Over the next twenty minutes, Rayhan rallied his units as best as he could. But with so many of them re-embarked or damaged, they couldn't maintain cohesion in the critical minutes after the Marian breakthrough. The legions of the Periphery's New Rome were poised to charge right up to the North Star and the other DropShips, and the result would be a slaughter, a slaughter of the evacuees still being boarded and of his troops.

"Galatine is bringing her Long Tom to bear on our behalf," reported a comm officer. "They're firing now."

The barrage, when it came, was the kind that could break most attacks. But whether through discipline or anger or sheer bloody-mindedness, the Marian charge continued through the barrage. The force, an ad hoc combination from the V and VI Legions, refused to let anything stop them, brushing past Rayhan's troops with little care.

After weeks of frustration, after having their glorious conquest of Bolan spoiled and their trophies snatched from them, after having the captives that would have enriched them with their bounties taken away, the Marian troops were having their day, and there was nothing Brigadier Rayhan could do to stop them.

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Outside of the relative safety of the DropShips, Lt. Colonel Sergei Semyenov directed the Nineteenth Free March Artillery's efforts to help hold the line. But the enemy's charge was too quick and their forward spotters were too swiftly overwhelmed. The battle armor troops were worn down and struggling with loss, and the light 'Mechs had already embarked and couldn't provide the spotting necessary. All he could do was fire blind.

Uncultured Periphery barbarians, he snarled to himself while considering the terrible fact before him: his command was doomed. The Nineteenth's vehicles were not swift, and not very well armored, and there were hundreds of terrified Bolanese between them and the DropShips. If he pulled them back to try and get them away, he would only add to the chaos hindering the evacuation. And that… that left only one option.

"All gunners, man your batteries!" he cried. "Stand ready for Action Close!"

He'd trained the Nineteenth well, and his men and women did not question his order, knowing as they did he was denying them escape. The artillery gunners of the Nineteenth went to work, moving their vehicles into place and lowering the guns. Turning them, effectively, from howitzers into literal cannons. Anti-armor cluster rounds were loaded at a single command.

The first Marian 'Mechs to approach were light models, Panthers, Javelins and Stingers rushing ahead to continue destabilizing the Dar-es-Salaam Cavalry's defensive posture. Semyenov carefully guessed the ranges and, when he felt the right moment was at hand, gave the order to fire. The artillery vehicles thundered with fury, looking more like tanks or self-propelled anti-tank guns at that moment than they did artillery pieces. Their shells boomed across the ground until the preset range was met and their fuses went off. A spray of armor-piercing shrapnel perforated several of the leading Marian 'Mechs, shredding the thin armor of the machines and their cockpits. Several toppled, their pilots killed instantly, and others staggered under the shots.

Semyenov's men already had the next rounds loaded. "Fire!" he shouted once more, and another wave of explosive rounds struck home. They too detonated in mid-air, creating great explosive shockwaves that toppled the light 'Mechs still standing.

Assassin Medium 'Mech

The Marian charge faltered, if for an instant, before the first of the fast mediums rushed in, the Cicadas, Vindicators, and Assassins of the Legions. Semyenov's guns fired once more, again with the anti-armor cluster shells, and while they inflicted damage they did not claim as many of these more-thickly protected machines. A number of the machines returned fire as best they could, and while their shots mostly missed, those that connected did terrible damage. One of Semyenov's pieces blew apart from a penetrating PPC hit, then a missile struck the ammunition storage of another. The cries of burning, dying men echoed around him, but Semyenov did nothing but give another order to fire, again and again, not flinching at the approaching enemy.

While the artillery continued to fire, the Marian charge did not lose impetus, and in minutes they would be in the midst of the DropShips. They were on the cusp of success.

...if not for the counter-charge.

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Facing down the unstoppable juggernaut

Marauder Heavy 'Mech firing it's PPCs

Lt. Colonel Fariq Hadi walked his Marauder off of the North Star with a handpicked group of MechWarriors from all of the assembled battalions. Thirty machines strong, theirs were the least damaged, and the pilots, among the most skilled and brave. Amongst them came all of the remaining armored infantry troopers of the Rayhan House Guards, a company and one and a half platoons in strength. The Bolanese refugees parted as the sea before them, as did the regimental personnel trying to keep the evacuation as organized as possible. The thunder of the artillery guns could be felt even inside his machine, or so it seemed.

It was when they were in range to see the approaching Marian companies of BattleMechs and armor that he keyed his tac-comm. "Come, my friends. We will hold the pagans until our comrades can get the civilians away. And I will see you again in Paradise, Inshallah." He let his crosshairs settle over a Marian Shadow Hawk and tensed his fingers on the triggers. Twin PPC bolts joined a barrage of shells that stitched across the machine. One of the bolts missed, barely, and the other struck the armored housing of the other 'Mech's shoulder autocannon.

Shadow Hawk Medium 'Mech firing it's weapons

The others joined him in opening fire, joining that of the surviving artillery guns. Hadi keyed his comms and external speakers to transmit together and let out the furious cry he felt burning in his heart.

"Allahu, Ackbah!"

Hadi's 'Mech, and the others, broke out into a run.

One of the most dangerous things a successful attack can face is a counter-charge. Even if their numbers are greater, even if victory is at hand, it could still fail against a counter-charge of the right size, the right energy, and the right timing. The attackers' instincts to evade the charge overpowers them and their impetus breaks. They lose momentum, and with that loss, everything falls apart and their formation must regroup.

Such was what the Marians now faced. While they were no strangers to facing charges, the moment was just right for their momentum to fade. Under the artillery fire, under the barrage of Hadi's impromptu force as it rushed eagerly to meet them, their tide ebbed. With their losses mounting, the Marians ceased the attack and began defensive maneuvers. Their experience kept them from breaking and their commanders went about the work of reforming their ranks for another push, all while long range fire whittled away at the last stand defenders of the Dar-es-Salaam Cavalry, targeting by preference the surviving artillery.

As the Free March artillery died, vehicle by vehicle, the Marian offensive resumed. They still had the numbers, they still had the position, and there would be no relief coming to aid the LZ. The victory was theirs for the taking. They pressed on, less a sharp thrust and more an unstoppable juggernaut of numbers.

Yet their enemies did not waver either. The Marians took losses for every meter, and the ferocity and skill of the resistance impelled them to the methodical advance that pressed the new perimeter of the LZ backward, bit by bit, while detached infantry and armor dealt with pockets of resistance cut off on the rest. Success was inevitable.

And yet, their fullest success eluded them, as was plain to see when, one by one, the DropShips lifted off from the LZs, unharmed and fully laden with the Bolanese refugees.

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Semyenov watched the DropShips take off and felt as if a weight came off his shoulders. They'd done it. He'd succeeded in his mission, his duty, and all that was left was to go down fighting rather than risk his soul with suicide.

He ran over to one of his surviving guns and jumped onto the vehicle. "Forward!" he demanded. Knowing what was coming, the driver yet obeyed, and the vehicle started lumbering ever closer to the front, its gun thundering whenever it could fire without risking the dwindling number of their allies. Had he not been about to die, even Semyenov's ear plugs would have failed to save him from permanent hearing loss.

Whatever his intentions to die, Semyenov was not immune to the fear of death. More acutely, he feared the grief and pain of his family back in Dimitrovgrad. I'm sorry my children, my dear Maria. I am not coming home after all. He breathed a silent prayer to the saints of the Church to tend to his family and that his sons grew up to be wise and strong.

Semyenov used his binoculars to observe the effect of their fire. A shell hit home, an explosive round that toppled three Marian 'Mechs and devastated a tank. A Centurion stood back to its feet and leveled its autocannon at them. Semyenov kept his jaw clenched and readied himself for the shot. Whether they missed or not, he was ready.

They didn't miss.

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Hadi overheard the calls on the tac-comm, confirmation that Colonel Semyenov was dead. He was a Christian, yet a good man. Allah give his soul the rest he deserves. "Artillery, maintain fire," was his only order in response.

They did, and his 'Mechs and infantry did. They maneuvered, and they fought, and they inevitably died under the sheer volume of fire, but none surrendered. Not a one.

Grasshopper Heavy 'Mech

The weight of metal against Hadi soon duplicated. An Orion, a Grasshopper, and a Victor all targeted him. He kept his 'Mech moving, dodging the incoming fire as best as he was able while returning it with his weapons, ignoring the heat buildup until his 'Mech felt as hot as the Empty Quarter itself. With an eye on the heat he fired his last autocannon burst, which chewed armor from the Grasshopper's leg as it took flight. Missiles from the Orion pummelled him, blasting armor away from his left arm until one blew apart the shoulder actuator, rendering the limb a limp appendage.

He ignored that. The Grasshopper pilot was his concern, as he brought all seventy tons of his machine down in an attempted "death from above" jump. The pilot was good, he had the landing perfectly.

Hadi was yet better.

He moved at the last moment, causing the Grasshopper to miss, if only just. He kicked at the 'Mech while it was still off-balance and discharged his sole usable PPC, point blank, into the knee actuator of the machine. With the previous damage from his autocannon, the armor gave at that point and his laser sliced cleanly through the armor, severing the limb at the knee. The machine tumbled and fell over onto its back. Hadi brought his 'Mech's foot up to smash in the cockpit.

The Victor's autocannon roared, spraying heavy shells into his side and right arm that tore open a wound in both. More importantly, the impacts threw him off balance and his foot struck the ground beside the Grasshopper's head, not on it. Hadi glanced back at the foe spared by his ally's timely aid.

Just in time to see the torso-mounted large laser fire. Bright blue light overtook his vision until nothing remained.

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A Lesson in Humility

Warship AFMS Liberator
Departing Bolan Orbit
Marian Hegemony

Admiral Andros found the Bolanese royal family on the rear observation deck. Beyond the brilliant flare of the Liberator's fusion engines, their homeworld was a gradually shrinking orb, its large and mountainous continents slowly receding from sight. Grand Princess Gita's hands held her younger sons' hands tightly. Rama was weeping despite himself, and his eldest sibling, the Princess Amita, had her fists clenched and looked taunt as a wire. "Your Highnesses, your quarters are arranged," Andros said. "And we've made the arrangements, one of our DropShips will be ferrying you and our worst wounded to Arcadia by way of a partial command circuit. You may have to wait a few days at Kitzingen, depending on the scheduling, but you should be on Arcadia by the end of the month." She swallowed and added. "My condolences, by the way, for the loss of your world. I wish we had the means to do more."

Gita slowly turned from the vision of her lost world to face Andros. "Thank you, Admiral, for your arrangements and your kind words. They do not fill the hole in my heart, but I appreciate the sentiment."

There was silence, and Andros wondered how much of that was genuine and how much was diplomacy. They have to resent us for not coming sooner. I know I would.

"I want to resent you," Gita said. "I want to be angry that your aid was 'too little, too late'. But you did not have to come. You could have kept your army safe and ready to defend yourselves and left us to our fate. But you came anyway, risking the wrath of Sean O'Reilly, and rescued us all. Your people bled and died to save so many of our thousands from their chains, even one of your princes lies maimed in the name of our liberation." She drew in a breath and glanced back to the window. "The Umayrs lost our patrimony, but we will at least keep our dignity and honor instead of being trophy slaves for O'Reilly. And we will not forget the blood your people shed on our behalf."

"Hopefully one day we'll be strong enough to come back."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps karma demands we remain in exile for a time, to teach us humility and wisdom that we forgot. Either way, I will leave that future to the gods."

Andros nodded. Before she could say more the ship intercom squawked. //"All hands, set Condition YANKEE. Enemy ships on intercept course. I repeat, set Condition YANKEE…"\\

"It looks like the Marians are going to harry us on the way out," she said to them. "I'll make sure crew sees you to safety if an action begins." With that she departed.

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New assignment

AFMS Galatine, Zenith Jump Point
Bolan System
Marian Hegemony
22 March 3034

The timer for their jump out of Bolan was down to a few minutes, and chance had Thomas with Angelina and his Lance Lieutenant, Dani Verdes. The flight out from Bolan hadn't been a comfortable one, with the Marians' "pocket" WarShips, their non-jump capable corvettes, repeatedly firing rounds toward the evading fleet. No hits were recorded, and every time they were challenged the ships broke off, but as they kept coming back it made for a tense week with repeated calls to alert status and restrictions to travel around the ship.

But that was all over. They'd rendezvoused with their JumpShips out at the Zenith point and the jump to Gypsum was imminent. Thomas allowed himself a breath and glanced at his cousin. "So, your final mission in the Guards is a success. I'm sure your new comrades in the Cuirassiers will benefit."

She smiled and shook her head. "It'll be the Strikers now. Command made sure to send me updated orders just before we cut the links from the HPG here. They're calling off the mustering of the Cuirassiers due to the need to make good our losses. I'm heading for McAffe now."

"Oh. The Strikers, then? They're bringing back Granddad William's old raider battalions?"

"Not a battalion anymore, a full regiment, the 8th Strikers. Chappy Sinclair is mustering them on McAffe, I'll be getting a company in their heavy battalion. I'm not looking forward to the combat drop training, I've always thought the Rangers mad for doing that."

"They're insane," Dani said, joining in. "But they did good work in opening the way for us."

"They did, and I'm sure the Strikers will too. I just prefer to keep solid ground under my 'Mech." Angelina nodded to her. "How are you and the girlfriend, by the way? You both came out alright?"

Dani blushed a little. With all the fighting she'd forgotten the entire Guards knew about them. "She never got hit. And I wasn't injured in the fighting, although my Marauder's still getting some of the combat damage dealt with."

"You came out well. Especially in that early fighting, holding the road like that. Your whole company was the pride of the regiment."

A squawk came over the PA. "All hands, brace for jump."

"Well, there we go," Angelina said. "We're heading home."

Dani asked, "Think the Marians will follow?"

"They'll regret it if they do." Angelina replied, a grin on her face.

A moment later they jumped. The Bolan Rescue Operation was officially over.

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