The Week of Hell Day 5[]
A Shadow Division, a whole damned Shadow Division is just a day behind us and we are moving infantry and injured. Erik looks around his cockpit unsure what to do. Leave them behind? Order them to fight to slow the enemy? No, the loss at the Academy was bad enough…
Each hour an aerospace flyover soared overhead to keep any pursuing enemies at bay. Occasionally one of the pursuers would pop their head out just a little too far, leading to a strafing run.
A small town lay ahead with some minimal activity going on, Erik marches his men through the main street down the center of town. Something someone of his stature doesn’t see often is towns with barely a couple dozen buildings. This will give me a chance to be seen at the very least, leading our wounded heroes.
Trudging to a stop, the column halts in the center of town. It’s about noon time and the storm actually reduced to little more than a sprinkle. Cracking open the Templar III’s hatch Erik stands and stretches. Still two days’ march to the spaceport and everyone is running on fumes. What few businesses still are open provide services to people in the column. A sizable restock took place as anything that promises energy soon found itself stripped from the store shelves.
As far as military assets go, less than two dozen vehicles accompanied Erik’s Command Lance. Somehow an additional four Battlemechs caught up with their column, totaling ten Battlemechs alongside two others that had been there from the start. An Anvil, Scarecrow, two Hammers, and two Bushwackers were all that had been able to join up. Considering this, Erik truly begins to come to terms with the sheer number of losses he took.
Now with a Shadow Division running around… Erik just wants to get to the spaceport as quickly as possible. Picking up his helmet he activates the unit channel he previously designated for the survivors. “Bush one and two, head out on patrol, full circle. Anvil, stay active and ready to go. Everyone else dismount and grab some chow. Once they get back we will cycle out a new group for patrol. Champion Actual out.”
Erik set down his helmet and begins to descend down the rungs of the ladder. At the bottom he turns around and looks up at his mech. While the Templar III is somewhat damaged, there is still plenty of fight left. Turning, he meets his waiting lancemates and all four enter the nearby general store.
***
“Captain Lankenau, any major formation movements from the Blakists since I checked in this morning?”
“Neg, Galaxy Commander. Scouting runs have the Shadow Division deploying at the Academy. Seems whoever is in charge has taken up residence at the HQ. We also have had eyes on units stalking the Prince’s Champion.”
“Thank you, Captain.” At that point the nearby hatch slides open and emerges Precentor Imala.
“Greetings Galaxy Commander!” Imala says, almost cheerfully, approaching for a handshake.
“Welcome back to the bridge.” As the two men shake hands McKenna signals to the war room. “Have a seat, Precentor.”
“Thank you, Galaxy Commander, it is good to be back on the bridge of this amazing ship.” Entering the war room, Imala takes the seat offered by Dominic as Dominic seals the room.
“Indeed, the Raven’s Nest is a marvel.” Continues Dominic, “However, I have some questions for you. What do you know about the Shadow Division, Four-Four?” asked Dominic.
“Avitue is here?!” Imala responds, his eyes wide, a mix of excitement and horror in his voice. “Mother or daughter?”
“I did not know there was an option, treat this as a full debrief, all we have is that this Shadow Division vanished, as well as Avitue, after the war.”
“Yes, Galaxy Commander. She is the one that gave the order to hunt us down. Sure, it came from Precentor Magnus but she wanted us dead.” At this point Imala clearly looks shaken.
“Are you implying this Avitue may be the same Manei Domini from the Word of Blake Jihad?” Dominic looked Imala dead in the eyes.
“Yes.” Imala gulps before continuing. “We will cover details like this when we meet with the First Prince but, after the war, she aided the survivors in finding shelter in the Periphery and interacting with locals on lost worlds. One of the more… tempered… Manei Domini, she was very helpful.”
“Over the years as we found Midas and built-up Blake Prime she took periods of rest in cryostasis with her Shadow Division. At one point, during her longest period awake post-war, she had a daughter that she named after herself. As she commands a Shadow Division, she received the highest possible tech in her cryopod. Upgrades were applied to it while she slept and each time she went in, by the end there were less and less negative effects.” He takes a second to think before continuing as Dominic listens intently.
“Eventually her daughter slumbered with her, once she reached adulthood. She trained her daughter to one day lead the Forty-Fourth. However, as time passed, she changed. Where before, during the Jihad she did not raze cities to the ground mercilessly…” Imala takes a deep breath, “She has exterminated entire continents on planets to force the populace into submission.”
“Bloody hell…” Dominic says under his breath, his eyes squinting as they sit in quiet. Dominic take it all in to really comprehend the gravity of the situation.
Interrupting the Galaxy Commander’s thoughts Imala continues, “That she has not dropped a nuclear warhead here yet, surprises me. She may be seeking to blood new Manei Domini or is just toying with the Prince’s Champion. Either way, we should leave.”
“Thank you for your council, Precentor…” distracted, Dominic looks up, past Imala to the bridge, which is showing a sudden commotion. “One moment.” Dominic stands and moves to the door, quickly opening it, “Captain, sitrep.”
“More of them, sir. A lot more of them just jumped into the system. Four-Eight hours until arrival.”
“Get me the Prince’s Champion on the comms, this world belongs to the Blakists…” Dominic stated with disgust.
***
“No, Galaxy Commander, you must be mistaken, she would be well over one hundred years old now. Kitsune Kurita on New Avalon isn’t even that old and he can not pilot a Battlemech.” Said Erik confidently, again blowing off Dominic’s warning him of potential danger.
“This is it Prince’s Champion, when the Blakists arrive to the planet, Stormhawk Galaxy will be leaving and we will bring any FedSuns troops that wish to come with us. If there is a possibility of up to two additional Level IVs in that formation, on top of additional warships and a Swordship this is a lost world.”
Erik gritted his teeth. The numbers don’t lie. Skill aside, the math gives the numbers, the mass, and the volume of fire to the Blakists. If he doesn’t leave with the last wave of dropships in forty-eight hours, he will die or worse. I will never sit the throne and my legacy will end with losing this world in a way like the fool prince lost Palmyra.
“Agreed, Galaxy Commander, signal the evacuation of Nuvuk. At double time this column should make it to the spaceport before the new Blakist arrival.”
“I am glad we have found agreement; preparations are already in process up here. McKenna out.”
Erik feels his stomach sink realizing his complete defeat here on Point Barrow. Is this what Julian felt losing New Avalon? Lowering his communicator Erik takes another bite of some food he purchased. An exploding building on the edge of town jolts him…
***
Both Bushwackers fire at each target as it appears. Raptor II, Raijin II, Enforcer, Bolla Tank, and more. Back pedaling at fifty KPH while shooting is taking a toll on the Mechwarriors as they try to gain space. “Champion Actual! We have contact!” No response came back.
A wave of missiles from a newly appeared Grim Reaper fly right past both Mechwarriors, slamming into a building at the town, causing a wave of explosions. “That should get his attention…” came a female’s voice over the open channel.
***
“Everyone mount up! Get moving South, now!” shouts Erik into his comms relay as he runs back to his Templar III. Scaling the ladder quickly he catches a glimpse of the fighting going on outside of town. By now, the Anvil is on the move to join the fight after warning Erik of the threat.
As he begins the emergency startup sequence and places his helmet on his head, all at once the comms come alive. Almost like they were being jammed…
“Champion Actual, we are being overrun, over.”
“Solid copy on that.” He sees his lancemate Battleaxe walk past him, moving toward the fight, stepping around the scrambling personnel on the ground and vehicles starting to move.
“Alpha three, en route.” Stated the Battleaxe pilot.
“Kick their asses!” added in Alpha 4, the Jagermech pilot.
A new voice joins the comms on the open channel, “O, this is not the fight you can hope to win, Prince’s Champion… See, I already killed one Prince’s Champion, I think it is time for another…” the female voice taunts Erik.
“The last Prince’s Champion to be killed was Jackson Davion, who the hell are you?” No way she is still alive.
“A nightmare from your past.” She says to him. He can feel the devilish grin on her face through her words.
Sealing his hatch, he turns the Templar III in place to see over the smaller buildings at who is fighting. Damn it, now would be a great time for some aerospace support. He can see about two Level IIs worth of enemy forces attacking from the Northwest.
“And there goes one of your Bushwackers”, she says right after the Grim Reaper’s PPC slammed into one, killing the XL Engine, making it fall to the ground.
Switching to the HQ comms, “Klavinsh, come in!” Erik yells.
“Yes, sir!”
“Get Galaxy Commander McKenna on the horn, we need aerospace support now!”
“On it, sir.”
With Klavinsh working on getting support, Erik needs to find a way to keep his people alive. “Anvil, Bushwacker pull back to the town. Our column is already en route South. Command Lance, get on line with me.”
His Templar III moves to the North end of town and aligns with Alpha 3’s Battleaxe, then is joined by both the Victor and Jagermech. A firing line created, all four begin a slow march, firing everything they can. Both the Anvil and remaining Bushwacker turn and move at full speed under the cover of the much larger lance.
Both sides exchange fire over the fairly open terrain just outside the North end of the town, giving the convoy a chance to get some distance. Trying to conserve some of his RAC rounds, Erik makes good use of his Medium Lasers and Re-Engineered Laser. He focuses almost exclusively on the Grim Reaper taunting him.
However, the Blakists soon begin falling back, both sides having taken minor damage, a distant roar gave away the inbound aerospace fighters. Explosions of rocky dirt erupted into the air as various weapons fire from the aerospace fighters fall around the Blakists. “I will see you soon, Prince’s Champion.” The female voice taunts one last time before the Blakists seem to vanish in a treeline near some small mountains just over a kilometer away.
“Alpha 2, use you hand actuator to get that pilot, then fall back, Command Lance, rejoin the convoy.” Ordered Erik. He turns his Templar and begins walking back through the town, waiting for the Victor to return to the lance. That cannot be Avitue, yes, she killed Jackson Davion but, her age would put her far beyond being able to pilot a mech. She sought me out as well.
“Let’s catch up, move out Command Lance.” Erik orders, bringing his Templar III into a run.
Civilians in the town peek out of their windows and doors watching the battered Federated Suns mechs leave. By now they all know the man leading that convoy of survivors from the Academy is the Prince’s Champion. One of the most powerful men in the Federated Suns. Even he is retreating to the spaceport, unable to fight back the Blakists…
>>The Week of Hell<<
>>Day 4<<
>>Day 6<<