Cracked windows on derelict buildings rattled as the three ‘Mechs filed up Mayrhofen’s main street. Most of the structures, retail space that might once have been posh shops and salons now boarded up or abandoned, were only a couple of stories high, but the thoroughfare itself was narrow. A ‘Mech any larger than Maier’s 50-ton Enforcer, leading the trio, might have had difficulty just turning around. With its heavy autocannon and laser and reasonable armor protection, the Enforcer was the logical choice as point ‘Mech. Kit came next in her Vindicator, followed by Smythe’s Commando, with the militia APC’s trailing behind. Kit knew her Vindicator, truth be told, was rather poorly-suited for close combat in general, but she wasn’t about to hang back and let her lancemates bear the brunt of the fight without her. In the back of her mind, Kit was constantly aware of the need to prove herself as a leader to her fledgling unit, to show that she wasn’t just a tech who had fallen ass-backwards into a cockpit.
In any case, at Mayrhofen’s outskirts all was quiet. There was no sign of resistance, and no sign of the town’s civilian population. It was impossible to tell whether the buildings they passed had already been deserted before the pirates’ arrival, or if the residents had become victims of the raiders, or if the locals were just keeping their heads down.
“Siren,” she radioed, “Any runners?” Jarvis, along with the Kats’ Harasser hovertank, had made an end-run around the village to watch for any raiders who might try to bolt as the main mercenary-militia force entered the town.
“That’s a negative, boss,” Jarvis chirped. “Hey, you think there might be a working sauna in this place for after we get done?”
Kit rolled her eyes and considered whether it was her responsibility as commander to tell Jarvis to refrain from such frivolous comms chatter, when she was interrupted by Smythe in the Commando.
“Hold up,” he said. “Got a magres reading. Ten o’clock, couple hundred meters out.”
Kit shook her head in frustration at herself, at least as much as she could inside her bulky neurohelmet and punched buttons to adjust her sensor readouts. The buildings in Mayrhofen seemed to be mostly concrete and wood construction, not the gleaming metal skyscrapers common to most of the Inner Sphere’s large cities. Magnetic resonance scanners were the obvious choice for finding pirate vehicles lurking in the side streets - or at least, the obvious choice for a veteran MechWarrior like Smythe.
“Copy that, sarge,” she said. “I’ll pop up and take a look.”
Kit pressed down with the heels of her boots. With a roar that shook the storefronts, the Vindicator’s jump jets flared to life, lifting the machine into the air to give her sightlines over the dilapidated buildings. Got you! She spotted the shape of a Goblin tracked medium tank, distinctive with its turret set well back on the hull and the triangular barrel of the large laser that served as its main weapon. The turret rotated to take aim at her, but the pirate gunner was too slow to get a shot off before she let the Vindicator drop back down to the pavement, showering the snowy sidewalks with shards of glass from shattered shop windows. “One Goblin, three intersections up and two side streets over,” she told her lancemates. “Definitely manned, they tried to line up a shot. I’ll make another hop and draw fire, you two take it out with a pincer.” She almost added, Sound good? before stopping herself. There was a time for a CO to propose a plan and get opinions, and a time to give orders.
Smythe pivoted his Commando and backtracked to the last intersection, while Maier stalked the Enforcer forward. Kit trailed in Maier’s wake until he reached the next side street, and as he turned she halted and fired her jump jets again.
The pirate Goblin crew must have known Kit’s lance was coming for them - the sound of ‘Mech footfalls was hard to disguise in such close proximity - but Kit’s rising ‘Mech was apparently too distracting a target for the raiders to consider maneuvering to escape. The Goblin’s laser rose to track her again, but the gunner was too hasty on the trigger and the shimmering cyan beam flashed wide of her ‘Mech as the tank reversed into the middle of an intersection, exposing its flank to the Enforcer. Kit saw Maier’s fire start to tear into the Goblin’s side before losing sight of the tank once more. As the roar of the Vindicator’s jump jets died away with her landing, she could hear the ripping-canvas sound of Smythe’s short range missile racks as he engaged the bandit vehicle as well, then the thunder of Maier’s autocannon as he expended another cassette of shells. Then there was a short, sharp explosion and flaming debris shot into the air over the rooftops. “Scratch one crawler,” Smythe radioed.
“Nice work, boys,” Kit said, and immediately second-guessed doing so. Smythe and Maier both had far more experience as MechWarriors than her, so what could her praise be worth to them?
The three Kats ‘Mechs encountered no further resistance until they reached the town square, where they were confronted by a scene that in a different context might have almost passed for heroic. In the actual present circumstances Kit could only find it pathetic. With a large paved roundabout linking the town’s main north/south and east/west thoroughfares around a central open space, Mayrhofen’s plaza was the type of place where if you had a good imagination you could picture a skating rink and bustling crowds of happy families at a holiday festival. Now the central park space was dominated by a ragged cluster of battered pirate armored vehicles: A pair of Scorpion light tanks, a single Hunter missile carrier, and a trio of tracked APC’s. A few raider infantry troopers could be seen peeking over and around the vehicles, while others, some still rushing to strap on helmets and body armor, ran from the buildings ringing the plaza to join in the last stand.
Kit sighed. Why don’t they just quit? She switched on her ‘Mech’s external speakers. “We’re going to give you a chance,” she said, “Surrender and…” She paused, realizing she might not have the authority to guarantee the raiders would not be harmed if they laid down their arms. “...You’ll be treated fairly.”
The response was a fusilade of autocannon fire from the pair of bandit Scorpions that pitted the armor of her Vindicator and Maier’s Enforcer. Maier took to the air with his jump jets, vaulting over the huddled bandits to touch down on the far side of the square. A pulse of azure lightning streaked over the ‘Mech’s head as it descended. The clouds of exhaust, the roar of the jets, and the sight of a BattleMech in their back line was enough to make some of the raider infantry break and run. Smythe swept his Commando’s medium laser over one group as they scattered, ending their existence in an instant.
“Something out there took a shot at you with a PPC, Lefty,” she warned Maier.
“I am aware,” the taciturn Robinson MechWarrior responded.
Kit’s mind raced through the pages of dog-eared technical readouts even as she took aim at one of the pirate Scorpions. If whatever else the raiders had lurking in Mayrhofen was packing a PPC, it was more dangerous than anything that the Kats had encountered so far. The blast had taken the form of a self-contained “shell,” more like ball lightning than the usual continuous beam. That narrowed down the range of specific models of weapon that had fired it…
Focus, damn it! she berated herself. There’s reading and there’s doing! She let loose with her own PPC and medium laser, quickly turning her cockpit into something like the sauna Jarvis had wished for, only much less relaxing. Part of her salvo found its way through a weak point in the Scorpion’s bow armor. Its autocannon fell silent and smoke began to seep out of the tank’s exhaust and ventilation ports.
The raider APC’s and a few stout-hearted infantry were pelting her Vindicator with machine gun and small arms fire, the bullets drumming on the ‘Mech’s armor with a sound like hail falling on a roof inside her cockpit. As she started to line up a shot at one of the personnel carriers, it lurched into motion and reversed frantically across the square directly into the front of a three-story building, which promptly caved in and buried the vehicle in rubble. So much for heroics.
To her left, the bandit Hunter was futilely trying to fend off Smythe’s Commando, which was rushing towards it inside the minimum arming range for the tank’s long-range missiles. The warheads battered ineffectually at the twenty-five ton ‘Mech, wreathing it in smoke and flame but dealing minimal damage. Smythe circled his quarry, responding with salvos from his own short-range missile launchers. She saw the Hunter throw a track, immobilizing it, before a cockpit alarm diverted her attention to her magres sensors.
“Heavy metal!” she called. “East side of the square and getting closer.” She pivoted the Vindicator on its heel to confront the new threat. Maier, occupied with engaging the other pirate Scorpion, was slightly slower to react. A PPC blast struck his Enforcer’s flank and the fifty-ton machine reeled, its flank crackling with azure arcs as a Manticore tank rumbled into the plaza.
Kit cursed under her breath. The Manticore was a sixty-ton heavy tank, outweighing any of the ‘Mechs in her lance. It also boasted more firepower, with both long and short-range missiles and a medium laser backing up its main gun, the Parti-Kill PPC with its distinctive “projectile” blast. “Have to keep that ****** off of the militia,” Kit told her lancemates. The Manticore could wreak havoc on the militia’s APC’s and infantry holding outside the square, so there was nothing to do but slug it out against the tank to make sure it didn’t break through.
She circled to the right, lashing the Manticore with a retaliatory salvo of PPC and laser fire without making a noticeable impression on its thick armor. Maier steadied the Enforcer and stalked closer to the raider tank, laying down a steady barrage from his autocannon. The Manticore ignored him and swiveled its turret to track Kit’s Vindicator. She had time to twist her ‘Mech’s torso away to protect her main weapon systems before the pirate’s hammer-blow fell. Over a ton of armor plating on the Vindicator’s side was pulverized in an instant, one spade-like foot skidded, and it was all Kit could do to bring the ‘Mech down on one knee, barely saving it from falling prone across the ancient pavement.
Smythe’s Commando darted in beside the Manticore. Unlike some ‘Mechs, the Commando had a fully articulated, five-fingered hand on both arms. More often than anything else, ‘Mech hands tended to be used for moving or carrying cargo on smash-and-grab raids. Occasionally a close-quarters ‘Mech battle would come down to ponderous punches and kicks. Smythe used the Commando’s hands with a veteran warrior’s creativity and precision. Hooking the machine’s fingers under the Manticore’s turret on either side, Smythe grasped firmly and twisted it away as the tank prepared to deliver a follow-up shot at Kit’s downed ‘Mech. Servomotors groaned as they fought to bring the turret back on target. The Manticore’s turret by itself probably weighed about as much as Smythe’s entire ‘Mech, and Kit knew that the struggle was not one Smythe could likely to prevail in for very long.
“Any time now, you two,” Smythe drawled, “But please try not to miss.”
Kit and Maier savaged the raider Manticore with PPC, autocannon, and laser fire. The tank and Smythe’s Commando temporarily vanished in a cloud of flame, shrapnel, and whipping electric arcs. When the smoke cleared an orange glow was visible through rents in the tank’s hull plating.
The Commando stepped back as a hatch on the Manticore’s turret was flung open. A crewman tumbled down the stricken vehicle’s side, his coveralls on fire from his boots to his neck. As Kit watched, unable to look away, the raider yanked a pistol free of a holster on his hip, raised it to his head, and fired. His screams, up until now clearly audible even in Kit’s cockpit, abruptly ceased as the corpse slumped to the pavement. When Kit finally blinked she found she still saw the man burning.
