Hi all,
I'm Smith, long time lurker, first time poster. I've spent a lot of time writing for fun lately, and I wanted to share the introduction to a story I've been working on.
Deshler
Hill 342
September 3028
Deshler was a world of monochromatic green pixels, and a hot tropical rain that seemed to come in sideways.
The Marauder’s light amplification system had been cutting edge three hundred years ago, but on a muddy hillside in the middle of a tropical storm, it may as well have not been turned on. Vince could hardly see the rest of his lance. The Marshal’s Atlas was a giant shadowy figure at the edge of visibility. Leland’s Awesome, and Anton’s Cyclopes were totally indiscernible at the unthinkable distance of five hundred meters.
The radio crackled, then exploded to life “Flash Traffic, infantry assault at grid coordinate C four! I repeat enemy infantry C four!” The radio cut out with a popping sound. Seconds later it was back, but with a new operator.
“Foxtrot Company to Command, do you copy?” asked a panicked sounding voice.
“We’ve got you Foxtrot, go ahead.” The response came from Ortega the Command Company’s communications officer.
“We need immediate support at grid location C four. We’re being overrun!” The sound of small arms fire over the mic made is hard to understand what the poor bastard was trying to say.
“Roger that Foxtrot, we’ll get you some help, but I need you to hold your ground, copy?”
“Solid copy command, we’ll…” The radio cut out again. This time no one picked up to continue the communication.
The First Chisholm Raiders had been assigned the garrison of this world only a few months ago. The plan was a simple fifteen month deployment to cover the Fourth Davion Guards who were training near the Capellan boarder. Things had been pretty quiet at the onset; the Raiders had set up shop near Deshler’s equatorial Canton Mountains. Most of the next fifteen months was scheduled for force on force training, skill development cycles, and PT. But in August, First Prince Hanse Davion had married Melissa Steiner the future Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth, and just like that the balance of power in the Inner Sphere got turned on its head. Almost every unit of the AFFS had gone over the border into the Capellan Confederation. The scuttle butt going around was that this was Hanse' idea of a wedding present. To coincide with this awesome gesture of matrimonial devotion, the Lyrans began a massive invasion of the Draconis Combine in a bid to push their boarders to ours. A shared realm would require a shared boarder they said. Well, easier said than done.
With the majority of the AFFS in Capellan space the Draconis March was wide open. Two regiments of the Benjamin Regulars had jumped in system within days, accompanied by innumerable battalions of infantry and armor. We lost most of our support assets on the first night. It didn’t really matter how many tanks we busted or infantry we crushed under our feet, they always seemed to have more.
Now it was coming down to the end, trapped in the mountains, and totally surrounded. Vince only had one job; keep Marshal Melford Dennis alive for as long as possible.
The radio snapped to life again. This time Ortega’s voice called out “Multiple heavy targets inbound on seismic.”
This was it; the Dracs had brought in their heavy Battlemech forces for a final assault up the mountain. Vince checked his sensors, nothing yet he thought. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow, and splattered on his command console. The rain subsided slightly, and for a second the world was calm, maybe even serene. Another second ticked by. Then the world exploded with fire and mud. Artillery was falling all around him. A large piece of shrapnel came crashing into his field of view, then spun away, leaving a gouge in his cockpit Ferro-glass.
“All units report!” Dennis barked.
“Praetorian two here. Still got all my teeth sir.” Vince said
“Praetorian three clear.” Leland said.
“Praetorian four here, I’m reading a damaged leg actuator, and quite a bit of armor loss on my right side” Anton responded.
“Praetorian four, are you still combat effective?” Dennis asked.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Pull back up the hill towards me, and have Ortega check in with the rest of the battalion.” Dennis ordered.
Vince watched the giant Cyclopes command mech slowly materialized in front of him as it made its way further up slope towards Dennis’ Atlas. At ninety metric tons the Cyclops was a massive war machine, out massed only by the Marshall’s hundred ton Atlas. Vince noticed that it dragged its right leg somewhat as it moved awkwardly up the hill. The Cyclopes was an unusual mech. Meant for command and control work, they had originally been outfitted with a complex battlefield intelligence, and command computer, that would allow a high ranking officer to lead units up to a regiment in size. Sadly this computer had been removed or destroyed years before, lost to the succession wars like so many other amazing technological innovations. In its stead was a custom built double cockpit. Anton sat in the command couch and piloted the mech while Ortega sat behind him facing rearwards, where he had access to the best communications equipment currently available. Large screens displayed live feeds from other companies and his radio switching station put him in contact with what was left of the First Chisholm Raiders.
“A, B, and C companies are heavily engaged down slope, and I can’t get a connection with D, or E” Ortega reported.
The report’s started to come in quickly after that. The crackling radio became a gateway to a hellish afterlife where young soldiers begged for their lives, fire support, or medical aid, only to become overwhelmed, then horrifically killed by an enemy force many times their number. Dracs didn’t take prisoners. Everyone knew it. No one said it. One by one the radios fell silent. Vince missed his family. Soon he thought… soon.
Vince was suddenly blinded by a large nearby explosion. His night vision equipment flashed a pale green circle across his cockpit Ferro-glass. The previously obscured night was a lite with tracers and laser bloom. Then someone started popping parachute flares like it was Capellan New Year and things became even more visible. Leland’s Awesome was already exchanging fire with a Drac Battlemaster. The Battlemaster wasn’t fresh, but it was defiantly a threat. Its arrival this far up slope also made it clear that command lance was all alone now. They were the last men standing.
Vince joined in on the Battlemaster, and the rest of the lance followed suit. No one called it on the radio. They all just knew it was time. Vince sent two bolts of white hot lightning flying out of his Marauder’s particle cannons and added some traditional cannon fire for good measure. The Battlemaster was backpedaling now under the combined barrage of five particle cannons and thirty long range missiles from the Marshall’s Atlas, and Leland’s Cyclops. As the Battlemaster burst into a fireball, his comrades came into view down slope. A Dragon, a Thug, and a Rifleman appeared at the edge of Vince’s vision. Their weapons converged on the Leland’s Awesome as he desperately tried to climb the hill in reverse. Leland’s weapons fired again and again. He had to be at the top of his heat curve. Vince joined him targeting the large Thug with particle fire and high velocity cannon rounds. Again the heavier mechs fired their long range missiles. The Thug shrugged off the initial volley and kept up its bombardment of Leland’s Awesome. The Awesome fell backwards into a sitting position, still firing. Then something inside burst in a brilliant flash, and it slumped to one side defeated.
“Leland, do you copy?” Vince asked over the radio. There was no response. He backed up the hill a bit to form a firing line with the rest of his lance. The three of them were in optimal weapons range now and they finished off the Thug with heavy cannon fire from the Atlas and Cyclopes. The lighter remaining mechs split left and right to come in on the flanks. The Rifleman engaged the Marshall’s Atlas with cannon and laser fire while the Dragon came around and opened up on Vince. Anton turned to back up the Marshall and they quickly dispatched the weakly armored Rifleman with heavy cannon fire and lasers. Vince pushed into his throttle and his Marauder began a large slow circle. The Dragon matched and they circled each other exchanging fire. The Dragon’s pilot was eager to prove himself in a duel, but he was also inexperienced. His aim was terrible. Vince aimed carefully for his opponent’s cockpit and fired both particle cannons at the same time. The sixty ton mech jerked violently to one side, then fell to the ground, a lifeless metal hulk.
Round one Vince thought as he turned his mech back towards the direction from which the enemy had come. A number of light mechs and more infantry than Vince could count came running up the hill. Vince aimed for the leg of a Jenner and fired, one PPC missed but continued on into a squad of ground pounders. He fired again, this time adding his cannon to the barrage. The Jenner lost a leg and tumbled to the ground crushing another squad of infantry. The Marshall’s Atlas lashed out sweeping laser fire across the ground. The tiny figures of men burst as the beam swept across them, all of their body's water boiling over in an instantaneous flash. Anton joined in, and Vince did the same. The tiny men were getting too close for comfort and their man pack short range missiles were starting to fill the air with contrails. One hit Vince’s Marauder and the mech shuddered slightly. He spotted another light mech in the distance, this time a fast moving Spider. It came, flying up the hill firing medium lasers. They burned a molten scar across Vince’s mech. He returned fire but missed as the small machine turned to run away. He’ll be back; Vince thought as a pair of Locusts came charging at him. He fired again. This time he didn’t miss. One of the small mechs turned into a nova bright fireball right in front of him. All three of them opened up with medium lasers as the remaining locust continued its suicidal charge. They cut him apart as he tried to make it between them.
They moved to reengage the infantry. This time Anton added some short range inferno missiles to the mix. The infernos burst over their targets raining down napalm on the Drac soldiers. The fires messed with Vince’s night vision. The auto gating feature meant to protect the system from damage when exposed to bright light kept turning on and dimming the whole picture so that it was hard to see at all. He reached out and toggled the system off. The fires and flares were all he needed now. The rain had slowed somewhat, and the remaining infantry were trying to dig into the muddy hill side for cover. They were no doubt also calling for more mech support.
Another enemy lance appeared at the edge of visibility. Vince saw the Wolverine first. Only milliseconds before the Drac mech stabbed out with a large laser burst that took his mech directly in the center torso. His cockpits temperature spiked as molten armor ran in rivulets to the wet ground. As he brought his own weapons to bear he could see the rest of the enemy lance which had burst into view, their weapons blaring. In addition to the Wolverine there was a Catapult K2 model, a Crab, and a Kintaro. They were an interesting lance that complemented each other well in weight and speed. The Crab, and Kintaro were old Star League era designs and very rare. The DCMS wouldn’t issue mechs that rare to just anyone. These were warriors, and they weren’t going to go down easy.
The wolverine was Vince’s first target and he began the fight with a volley of cannon fire. The shells impacted the smaller mech's seemingly huge center of mass with a series of rapid flashes followed by the reports of the explosions as they reached him a few milliseconds later. He’d done some damage but not enough. The Drac pilot fired his large laser again this time backed up by a medium laser. The two beams converging on this Marauder’s left arm mounted weapons pod. Vince watched this damage display turn form yellow to orange, and then red, as armor peeled off under the searing heat. As if that wasn’t enough the Wolverine upped the ante with six short range missiles. They burst from the shoulder mounted launcher and corkscrewed out towards him; exploding all around him and dispersing damage across his entire mech. Vince fired back with his particle cannons and medium lasers. The particle fire was devastating. The combined energy of the two cannons was enough to cause the fifty five ton mech to rock back on its heals. The armor around the mech's center torso was badly damaged now, and his medium lasers took full advantage, slicing through the slag to reach sensitive internal components. Something flashed and the Drac mech’s chest exploded.
Vince turned back to his lance to find Anton’s Cyclopes trying desperately to keep up with the Crab circling his mech and picking apart his legs. Meanwhile the Marshals’ Atlas was locked in a life and death fight with both the Kintaro and the Catapult. Already at the top of his heat curve, Vince pulled his control stick to the right, dropping his targeting reticule over the K2, and fired all of his weapons at once. The Cat staggered as armor exploded away in large shards. The Drac pilot righted himself, turning to face his attacker. Vince short cycled his weapons, and jammed his index finger down on the “override automatic shutdown” button. He fired again, but not before the K2 had fired a volley of its own. The twin particle cannons took him in his already damaged left arm and torso. It was like getting kicked in the balls by a grizzly bear. Thousands of joules of heat energy converted the solid structures of his mech's left side into liquid metal that sprayed outward like blood from a gunshot wound. Damn near half his mech sheared off. Falling to the ground with an earth shaking crash. His weapons fired, well some of them did. His right side PPC and medium laser dug hard into the Cat’s damaged side torso, destroying internal structure, and components. His class five automatic cannon fired a burst but not a normally one. Where his cannon normally fired five rounds in a little under a second this time it only fired three rounds, then jammed. It was enough. At least, it was enough to fell the damaged K2.
Alarms blared, and warnings flashed across all of his displays. His mech was more than a little dinged up now. He couldn’t keep this up much longer. He’d gotten really lucky with his cannon shells. When he’d lost his left torso and arm the ammunition storage bin had torn open and spilled all of his ammo out into the mud. His last burst had used up what had been left sitting in the loading chute. Now he was piloting a severely damaged battlemech with only a fraction of his original armor or weapons package. Again he turned to the Marshal, and again he found the Atlas facing two opponents at once. Anton’s Cyclopes was a smoking pile and the crab had turned to help its comrade face down the hundred ton monster. Vince didn’t really need to worry about heat now. He quickly ran through his targeting display and identified the weakest points of contact on the opposing machines. The Kintaro’s right leg was shredded and the Crab’s torso must have taken a hit from Anton’s class twenty. Both mechs were in bad shape but the Kintaro was the easy target. Vince took careful aim and fired his weapons into the Kintaro’s leg. It collapsed and the fifty five ton machine toppled to the ground. As it struggled to prop itself back up into some kind of firing position Vince fired again, this time aiming carefully for the cockpit ferro-glass. The Marshal’s Atlas fired a massive alpha strike into the Crab’s broad torso, and the Drac mech flattened like a cockroach under a boot. Tracer’s whizzed by Vince’s cockpit glass as the infantry began another push. The Marauder limped slowly towards the Marshal’s side, and Vince opened his com channel.
“Well that was fun, but I think we’ve lost this one Sir.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right captain.”
More tracer fire lite the sky and Vince’s mech shuddered under the impact of a short range missile. Down slope he could see more enemy battlemechs. It was going to be over soon. Vince reached out to grab the picture of his wife and kids that he kept taped to his command console. He wondered what kind of death benefits they’d get. He hoped they’d be okay, and he felt a crushing pain that he wouldn't be there to protect them. There was a blinding flash, a loud metallic bang; then falling.
