We had heard the Dracs were expanding the depots on Halstead Station. It made sense, that was far enough behind the border that it would take some effort to get to, the majority of the population lived underground in huge warrens, which would mean getting to any depot would be tough. There were already plans being made, and something tells me that had Ian made it off Mallory's World, he would have jumped immediately to Halstead Station...then we heard about the University Library discovery...
Instead, I was there. I'd be lying if I said I was not conscious of the fact that nothing stood between Michael and the throne other than my Battlemaster, but you don't join the AFFS to stay safe.
They say no plan survives contact with the enemy, and this was certainly the case...
-From the Unpublished Diaries of Hanse Davion
The lasers fired, and the paper quickly caught fire. Slowly at first, then with a growing intensity, the flames leapt from book to book, then from shelf to shelf. Once the blaze was going, the Victor moved away from the door, leaving him to look upon what had been done. Three hundred plus years of lost knowledge, gone...
With as start, Hanse Davion woke up. The neurohelmet was heavy on his shoulders, which throbbed with a dull pain. The comms were coming to life, reports were coming in. His mouth was dry, a few sips from the water bottle were just enough to remind him it had been awhile since he had last eaten a good meal.
"Note to self. Lock head of Commissariat in room and force them to eat Field Rations...that will teach them."
"Sorry Sir, Did you say something?" Major Deutsch, commander of the 3rd Battalion, 1st Davion Guards, had moved his Thunderbolt over a little closer. The paint scheme was wrecked, the bright new armor plates standing out, signs of the last few weeks recent activity.
"No Major, just thinking aloud. Whats the ETA on the drop ships?"
"Four Hours Sir."
"Good. Priority is those units carrying the cargo. I don't care about loading order, or who gets on what ship. They march in, they lock down, and the ship boosts. Sauve que peut. Anyone who has a problem with that gets left behind."
"Understood sir."
"Contact! Contact at Point Warren, estimate Battalion plus of mechs, with armor and infantry as well."
Hanse closed his eyes and though for a moment, pulling up a map from memory. That area was a natural choke point, as long as the Captain in charge there didn't get to overzealous and stayed on the defense they could hold out. Disengaging could have been tricky, but the engineers had planned for that.
The minutes ticked by slowly, the sounds of combat filtered through the comm systems, a snippet of information caught Hanses attention.
"Which unit is that fighting D company?" he asked.
"Sir, 27th Dieron."
Hanse closed his eyes, thinking hard.
"Wheres the 2nd Sword?" he asked, moving the Battlemaster into a slow trot.
"Lost contact with them two days ago at the river. It's been 27th Dieron chasing us since then." replied Major Deutsch.
What would I do? I don't know where the dropships are going to land exactly, but I have a general idea. There's only a couple of locations, but enemy has not tipped his hand by claiming a DZ yet. So, what do I do? I use my lesser unit to pin down and attract my enemies attention while I..merde.
"Move on all three DZ's....Colonel Pruitt!"
"Sir!"
"Were moving out ASAP. Recon companies and fast movers out ahead of main force. Special Cargo in the Center. You've got front, I've got rear. As soon as the dropships begin their final we set up a perimeter, and the dropships cover us while we load."
"Yes Sir. Playing a hunch sir?"
"Educated guess, Colonel. 2nd Sword broke off two days ago. Kurita knows we've got limited choices to land, and he's force marched the 2nd to cover them. Major Deutsch, tell D company to blow Point Warren and fall back best possible speed."
"Sir!"
Pruitt and the 1st moved out smartly. The 1st Davion was an elite unit, and it showed. Despite the weeks of hide and seek, combat and stress, they moved with alacrity and purpose, and no complaining. The end was close, the dropships had broken through the ASF cover and were getting ready to land, and they knew it. Now all they had to do was survive the next few hours.
*******
He ducked, but not quickly enough, and the PPC blast from the enemy Warhammer took off the Holly Missile launcher on the Battlemasters left torso. Not that it mattered, it had fired the last ammo a few minutes earlier. Stabbing the mechs right arm out, he fired his own PPC in return, watched as the beam dug into the Warhammer's hip joint. With a short tremor, the Warhammer tottered, then fell over. Backing his mech up, Hanse looked for cover as he watched the approaching heavy company. A loud roar echoed through his cockpit, and he glanced up and saw Leftenant Mowbray's Victor sail through the air on a short jump, twisting to avoid the energy beams fired at him. The Warhammer, lacking hands and lower arm actuators, would have had a hard time standing up without the damage to it's hip, as it was the Kurita pilot managed to get his mech into a sitting position, but it didn't matter. Mowbray landed a few meters short of the sitting mech, and the Pontiac 100 roared directly into the Warhammer's cockpit. Scores of LRM's reached out, but with a deft touch Mowbray sidled out of the path of most of them, the few that hit exploding with little effect on his left torso.
A Kurita Awesome stepped out from behind an outcrop, the three PPC's atomizing much of the rock Mowbray was using to shield himself. Stepping out, Hanse fired his PPC and medium lasers, taking little notice of where they hit, he just wanted to distract the Awesome for a moment. It worked, the Awesome turned towards him as Mowbray bounded away again. Hanse stepped back in time to avoid the Awesome's return fire, then watched with satisfaction as Sgt. Hawkins Archer blanketed the Awesome with 40 LRM's. The Awesome retreated, its armor now pockmarked and pitted.
"Dropships in five!" Pruitts voice was strained, he had his own problems to deal with on the other side of the DZ.
Five more minutes.
Fall back, move around, fire. The Awesome made another appearance, but ducked back again when confronted by Hawkins and the Prince. The LZ was a warren of rocks and gully's, and the mag sensors were going off the chart. It came down to who saw what first, and who fired first and best. Hanse wheeled his Battlemaster around one outcropping, and ran full on into a pair of Sword Panthers that were trying to work around the flank. One of them literally bounced off his mech, falling backwards. The other snapped off a shot with the SRM and PPC, but both missed wide. Hanse was better, his medium lasers reaching out and hitting the one panther in its already damaged chest. With a shudder, the Panther shook, then fell backwards as a stream of smoke and metal worked its way through the holes in the armor, the gyro shredding itself as it fell. With a quick step back and a twist, Hanse kicked the other Panther in the hip with not only enough force to warp the actuator, but to bounce the humanoid mechs head off the rock as well. Checking to make sure it was unmoving, Hanse stepped back again. The Awesome made its presence known, the three PPC beams blasting the outcropping Hanse was standing next to. Intentional or not, several boulders flew off and struck his mech, one of them with enough force to bend the barrel of a medium laser. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Mowbray sailed again through the air, only this time he wasn't so lucky, as a pair of PPC beams and several LRM's caught him just before he landed. One of the missiles hit the cockpit, and it jarred Mowbray enough that instead of landing properly, he landed feet first then pitched forward, the mechs momentum digging a furrow in the ground.
He was getting ready to step out from cover again and fire, when the ground a hundred meters in front of him exploded. Scores of missiles and beams traced an imprecise line between the Davion and Kurita mechs, but it was enough to stop the Dracs from advancing. Hanse glanced up, and saw the Overlord class dropship descending. Slightly above it were Four Unions, a Fortress, and a heavily modified Mule. All showed signs of damage, one of the Unions in particular had several columns of smoke coming from one of the weapons bays.
The firing slowly died down. A Kurita Marauder tried closing in, but several beams from the Overlord took it's legs off in a surgical manner. As long as the 1st was under the dropships guns, they were safe.
*****
The minutes ticked by. One by one the mechs of the 1st Davion Guards moved into a dropship bay. As if by unspoken agreement the Heavy and Assault lances were the last to move.
A Kurita Battlemaster stepped out of the line, stopping at just beyond the dropships effective weapons range. With a smart salute it raised it's PPC in the air. Hanse zoomed in, focusing on the mech. The coiled dragon on the shoulder confirmed his suspicion. He maneuvered his own mech forward and returned the salute, broadcasting in the open.
"Konnichi Wa, Coordinator."
"And to you Lord Davion."
"It has been a well fought series of battles Coordinator. I salute you and your men."
"And I salute yours, Prince. I must say your battlefield reputation precedes you."
He was tired. Two days of living in the cockpit had sapped his strength, and the last four hours of battle had drained what was left. He had no time to play the game of obfuscation and little entreaties. He could endure this small loss of face, after all, he won.
"Coordinator, you can see that your troops cannot advance. My troops are embarking, and then we are leaving. You have lost this battle, but it is one you have fought with honor. There is no shame in this loss." It was good timing, but to emphasize his words one of the Unions lifted off in a blaze of ion plasma.
There was a pause, a moment of time that seemed to stretch out between the two.
"You and your men have fought well, Prince Davion. Until we meet again." With surprising grace and agility, the Kuritan Battlemaster bowed. Hanse hoped his return bow was equally graceful. When he returned to a full standing position the second Union was lifting off. He turned his comms back to the Guards frequencies.
"Contact, contact coming in fast, looks to be two ASF's, range 10 clicks and closing fast!"
They were closing in fast, two teardrop shaped Slayers. The second Union, the Jonesboro was still in the process of lifting off, a slow, fat target that was to good to pass up.
"I've got 'em." Sergeant Jess stepped forward, the Garret radar on top of his Rifleman spinning furiously. Stepping forward he raised both the Riflemans arms to the sky, loosing a steady stream of autocannon and large lasers. Jess was as good as his word, the first Slayer flew threw a stream of shells, shuddered in the air, and changed course, trailing black smoke. Hanse heard Pruitt screaming on the radio for ASF cover of their own, but he was to busy following the second Slayer. It came in at high speed, jinking up and down, but not fast enough for Jess. The second Slayer shrugged off a few autocannon an laser hits, until one of them appeared to hit near the cockpit. The plane, trailing smoke and pieces of structure, flew straight and narrow for a moment, then pulled up and at its best possible speed, flew into the lower side of the Jonesboro.
It was a morbid fascination, watching the event unfold. The Jonesboro hung in the air for a few seconds, trying to right itself. From within the interior of the ship was a sympathetic explosion, and one of the bay doors exploded outwards, followed closely by a Quickdraw that was tumbling end over end. There was even more debris...paper, floating in the air.
The Jonesboros engine stuttered, then stopped, and then slowly began to fall back down.
It was the paper that caught his attention, the remains of the books they had fought the past four weeks to save.
Close, so close.
Several mechs dodged and jumped out of the way as the Jonesboro fell back to the ground. If there was a saving grace, it was that it was too close to the ground to achieve terminal velocity on the way down, and the impact could have been much worse.
He wasn't sure who fired first. He knew it wasn't him, but the next thing he knew the comms were alive with people screaming and cursing, and then the air was filled with missiles and laser fire as the 2nd Sword charged.
He screamed, the stress of the last few days, the sight of the books falling back to earth. A war cry, inarticulate with rage, escaped from his lungs. Turning, he raised his PPC and fired, watching as the fire of the nearest dropship reached out over him to try and stave off the advancing horde. They couldn't fire for long, in a few moment they wouldn't be able to tell friend from foe. He advanced firing as he went, caught up in the tunnelvision of rage and bloodlust.
He fired, he punched, he kicked, shrugging off the hammerblows of the enemy mechs. He saw his target, the Battlemaster, standing and firing, a Marauder on one flank, an Orion on the other. Missiles and lasers flew by him on all sides. A Victor, maybe Mowbrays, flew through the firestorm and landed a few meters in front of the Battlemaster. The Pontiac roared just as the Orion fired at it, jerking it away from its intended target and into the Marauders leg, which collapsed, taking the Marauder to the ground. What armor remained was not enough to save Mowbray, his heat shielding gone, he ejected. Hanse watched as the prone Marauder tracked Mowbrays chair then fired...
A barrage of missiles enveloped the fallen Marauder and the Battlemaster. When the dust and debris cleared, the Marauder was immobile, black smoke escaping from the seams and joints. The Battlemaster looked sandblasted, its armor pocked and dented, leg fused at the knee.
Hanse raised his PPC, the Battlemaster blinked under his reticle and he fired. Nothing happened. He pulled the trigger again, still nothing. He risked a glance, and saw that half of it was missing, the remains a melted mess.
"When did that happen" he though to himself. He tossed the remains aside, risked another look at his screens. Voices filled his comms, the loudest was Pruitt's, cursing him and calling him back, urging others to go to his aid. The Orion stepped in front of the Battlemaster, autocannon flashing,. Hanse ignored the mech, moving closer to the Battlemaster as fast as he could. The missiles had rattled the coordinator, maybe one or more had hit the cockpit and shaken him up some. So much the better.
The Orion turned to tracked him, then recoiled as it was shoved aside by Hawkins charging Archer. Despite its missing arm, the 70 ton mech rocked the heavier mech backwards, then fell under the Archers torso medium lasers and a couple of well placed punches.
"TAKASHI!" He screamed. He was close now. Rearing back, he punched, but the coordinator recovered in enough time to pull back, enough to avoid most of the damage. The return punch was a hammerblow, crushing the remaining medium laser on his right torso.
He didn't know how long it lasted. Kicking, punching, firing. His gyro screamed in protest, the feedback from his neurohelmet was overwhelming. Kurita punched and missed, over extending himself, and seeing an opening, Hanse returned with a punch of his own. He smiled in grim satisfaction, saw the Coordinator looked out the cracked cockpit to see his fist coming towards it, maybe it would be the last thing he saw.Just as his own fist hit the "neck" joint of the Kuritan Battlemaster. Something struck the side of his mech, throwing him against his seat restraints hard enough that his head bounced off the side.
*****
Pain, unbelievable pain.
*****
Blackness.
