0700 Hours, 17 October, 3063, Minsky's Folly, Camp 1.
Elizabeth walked under the blankets of camouflage, to the Force Command post- Might as well call it Regimental CP, since Lt.Col. MacGruder moved his Militia in... she thought sourly. The guard at the door straightened and saluted, Lyran style, and, said, "Good Morning Colonel Ma'am." Elizabeth stopped for a second, Colonel??? since when-??? She realized he was holding the salute, waiting for it to be returned. She obliged him, and, headed into the tracked vehicle. Lt. Col. MacGruder, Consultant Davies, and, the Governor-Elect from the Provisional Government, were all present. "Davies, what in hell is this 'Colonel' business??" she demanded. Davies blushed, and, said, "The Governor has brevetted you to Colonel of the Planetary Militia, and, put Davies and his recruits under your command, ma'am." She glared around the room, "WHAT??? I was going to be told about this... WHEN, exactly?" she demanded. The Governor shrugged, "You've got the bulk of the forces, and, the Experienced people, I guess I figured you might want to have the fullest cooperation of the Militia, an' that meant givin' you the command-rights, seein' as you've been payin' t' train 'em anyway, an' they're used to your boys givin' the directions..."
Elizabeth sighed heavily, and, said, "I don't envy you your job,or, your position, Governor... for the duration of this emergency, I'll accept this rank- but, only for the Duration of this Emergency, I don't want to be in a position where Sharon Bryant or Nondi Steiner can give my boys a call-up when they've run through their best people."
The Governor was well aware of Elizabeth's negative views regarding both the head of the LAAF, and, the Marshal in control of the Melissia Theatre Command.
"Accepted." He said, with relief. By applying the condition she had, she made it amply clear that she was uninterested in running a Coup against the Civilian Government she'd helped to establish, now that she truly had both physical, and, Legal, control of the means of violence on-world.
"Okay, now, we get back to business, Davies, what's the status on our Helo-recon and harassment operations?"
Groves number 4, 0730 Hours, 17, October, 3063
Shel walked past the South truck park, the unaccustomed weight of a sidearm banging against her hip, and, the weight of her Clan Helmet tugging at her scalp. In the last two days, no fewer than four lightning raids had been carried out by helicopters- they would buzz the perimeter, fire a few light autocannon rounds from extreme range, and, fly away, drawing the inevitable pursuit star- which was too slow to track them.
The Aerospace wing was having its own problems- while certain that they destroyed the bulk of the Ngo industries fighters, Aerospace fighters would still sweep in, at unexpected times, striking the airfield with bombs or long-ranged missiles. Four fighters had been destroyed on the ground this way, and, lacking a civilian workforce, there was no other option than to keep the fighter wing aboard their Dropships. For all intents and purposes, the Falcons were Garrisoning a ghost town in a hostile land.
POPOPOPOPOPOPOP! Echoed suddenly, and, a nearby truck shook, as bomblets from an LBX light autocannon showered against it from the west. Good Morning Charlie... Shel thought, diving behind an emptied ammunition transport truck parked between her, and, the direction of the helos. A Night-Gyr stepped out of its concealment, and, sent a hail of answering fire-which, unfortunately, fell short of the speeding VTOL. We need something to bring those little machines down...we need a better air-cap. Shel mused, peering over the hood of the tractor-trailer rig. The morning pursuit star was already running out of their improvised 'Mech bays, hoping to catch a read on the direction this latest attack had come from- as the popping sound echoed from the north side of the site.
Shel knew this was nothing more than harassment, meant to rattle the Clan forces and confuse them.
Nathan Roshak knew this, too, and, he had not ordered it yet, but, there was to be a mission to find the bases these holdouts were using... Beak 1 was being sent south, along the river, to find where the enemy was hiding.
Shel, of course, was to go along, her sensor equipment aboard the "white Elephant" would be crucial, as would the communications gear that would enable the Star of 'mechs to communicate with their base without being overheard.
Shel stopped by the 'Mech bays. Beak 1's Omnimechs were all recieving the tightbeam communications equipment in place of certain weapons arrays. The work was slow going- while the design was not unknown, the presence of parts had proven to be something of a problem, and, the relay-sensor vehicle had to be altered as well. She saw a 'Tech working on one of the 'black Boxes" that would enable the 'Mech Star to communicate with their base. "Hey, Jorge, how is it coming along?" she asked, in a friendly tone. Jorge looked up, "It is progressing more slowly than the Star Captain would like, but, we should be able to make his deadline of the day after tomorrow- adapting this older technology was a bit of a challenge, but, it will work now."
Shel nodded approvingly, and, said, "Good, very good. I am looking for Star Captain Icaza, is he around?" Jorge nodded, "Aff, the Star Captain is in the office, over there-" he gestured with a screwdriver, "He is quite impatient for the repairs on his suit to be completed- he has mentioned something about guarding your white elephant." They both laughed, knowing that the Star Captain had little interest in such a duty-save for the potential to get some back for the minor injuries inflicted by the Helicopters on their morning visits. "Thank you, Technician Jorge." she said, very formally, and, headed for the former "Yard Office", where the Star Captain had set up shop.
She did not bother to knock, as she opened the door. Morgan Icaza was lounging in a chair, with a hot cup of coffee, reading a manual on Infantry tactics written before the first space-flight by a man named Von Clauswicz.
"Good Morning, Star Captain." she said, as she entered the small, heavily windowed, room. He looked up, "Ah, good... I was expecting you here. Did you have any more trouble with the... ah... Civilian Prisoners?" his question was a good one- one of the duties that was thrust on her, as the sole Watch Officer, was to sift through the personnel downstairs to see which, if any, could be safely put to work.
"Slow going, I found three that could do Technician work with supervision, more than a dozen people the Clan would consider too old to be of further use, and, a collection of Housewives and such that would sooner slice your throat, than lift a finger to do your laundry. Some of the Factory workers, with a bit of guidance, can be returned to work, the problem is, though, what this factory makes, and, the number of former LCAF, AFFC, and, LAAF personnel- give them access to explosives..." she raised her eyebrow. Icaza nodded wisely- "As long as there is active resistance out there, those people are only valuable as hostages." He stated it as a fact. Shel agreed wholeheartedly-Kowloon's biggest industry, besides food, was Ordnance Consumables- ammunition and explosives. Many of the Houses in the captured city had been wired for demolition-right into the foundations themselves. It was easy now, for Shel, and, Morgan, both, to see how a labour dispute on this world had already precipitated a violent civil war that took most of a Regiment to put down. "What news?" He asked, conversationally.
Shel shrugged, "Star Captain Roshak has returned Point Commander Peter to duty-outside of his Salamander suit. He is walking Perimeter guard with those two fools from his old Star...he did not care for the demotion, but, I think he cared for facing you in a bad mood even less." Nathan laughed, "I almost wish I was present for that-but, I had more important duties. How is the Child, and, his new caretaker?"
Shel sat down in a chair, "Funny thing, that- I let her have her own children, and, a private cell on the third level down, with full amenities, probably a cell that held someone important in the past, since it has an embedded holoimage of a green field on one wall. The older children are assisting her in caring for the baby, they are, if not content, at least, not trying to escape." The last was a reference to the first attempt to organize a work-party.
The bodies of the escapees who'd been caught had almost galvanized the locals into active resistance.
"I heard about that- Nathan told me you had to spend six hours talking them around to not attacking us with whatever they could pick up." Morgan observed dryly.
Shel nodded, "Aff, it was bad, It took every scrap of human psychology I knew to prevent a riot that would have reduced our potential workforce, and, turned the holdouts into fanatics. There is no glory in shooting women and children."
Morgan thought on that carefully, and, said, "Aff, you are correct, I would not have liked to do that, not with real enemies on-planet to find and fight... Nathan agreed with you, then, Quiaff?"
Shel nodded, "Aff, this world has faced many trials that most of the worlds in our Occupied Zone have not- these are a stubborn folk, and, blood only makes them more so, If we can bring them around to the Clan way, they will be a significant asset...if not, we will have to give Warriors like Peter Malthus free reign here, I do not, for one, wish to replay the horrors of Amaris for a new audience to be sickened by."
Morgan smiled, set the book aside, and, said, "You worry too much, and, Nathan thinks too much. What may happen, and, what will happen, are two different things... The Clan way is the right way, Freeing these people of the chains of customs long outdated and wrong is what being a Crusader is all about. They will come to understand this." His tone had the calm assurance of a true believer. Shel wished desperately that she could be so certain of that outcome...
Minsky's Folly Canyon, Camp 1, October 17, 3063, 0800 Hours...
The VTOL sections reported that the Clanners were still reacting to their probes by sending out 'mechs, meanwhile, much of the East Side of Nha Tran was burned out-but, the fires were dying. There would be rebuilding aplenty when this war ended. Supervisor 3 Harris, now "Major" Harris, of the Kowloon Air Cavalry, strode up to the "Regimental" command post. "Major." Elizabeth greeted him, returning his salute. The tall aviator was from Andurien, in the Free Worlds League, and, once upon a time, his father had fought for Anton Marik. "No losses, it looks like they haven't repaired the damage on the North lot yet, we lit up a Point of Elementals, they'll be feelin' it for a while. I think they're just setting up shop in the Plant itself, no activity in town besides a few small patrols..." He smiled, "We dropped off the Combat Engineers without being detected, pretty soon, they'll be even more uncomfortable..." Elizabeth accepted the news with the barest of nods.
"Excellent work, Major, Now, I want you to work up a patrol plan for the next stage-those Falcons are going to be looking to get some payback, I want them to get... something, and, it's your job to lead 'em into it."
She outlined her plan, slowly, by the time she finished, the newly-minted Major was fighting to control his laughter.
Eventually, when the "Major" from the First Armoured Battalion contributed his own bit, Laughter won out over sobriety.
Briefing conference room, Groves number 4, 17, October, 3063, 1200 hours local time...
"They are due Southwest, about a hundered forty-two Kilometers, looks like a company sized encampment." Nigel Von Jankmon said, standing in front of a briefing Holomap wiht a Mesa, rising out of the Canyons, highlighted.
"This looks like a trap." Shel stated flatly. VonJankmon nodded, "The area is saturated with air-defenses, I lost two pilots getting this image." on the Briefing holomap, an airstrip could be seen, angling down into hardened bunkers atop the mesa. Other images showed extensive minefields around the airbase, and, several dozen AAA batteries. "The Anti-Air batteries move, we think they do it at night, or, under cloud cover, the minefields are command-activated, no doubt, given the tracks over them."
Shel pulled at her lip, and, said, "Why did this appear now? and, why would they leave their main airbase open to observation on a clear day, when there are Aerospace fighters flying over head? does this look too good to be true to anyone else here, Quiaff?"
Von Jankmon rounded on her- "I am not decieved by any tricks, this is where they landed, this is, this has to be, the main airbase, and, with that many Tanks, this has to be near their Command Post, if not acting as their command post!!!" Shel cocked a skeptical eyebrow, but, fell silent. It can not be that easy- they let you see it, do you not understand this??? she kept her thoughts to herself- as the Intelligence Officer, the sole Watcher here, she was expected to see traps and deceptions under every stone-indeed, Nathan Roshak had stopped calling her "the Stravag Witch", and, started calling her "My Professional Paranoid", after the mess with the escapees.
Star Captain Nathan Roshak spoke up. "How many fighters do you have to strike this base?" he asked.
Von Jankmon sighed, "I have less than a Star operational, Four. I have four left, me, Fallon's Jagatai, and, Walter and Thomas, Three Scythas and one Jagatai total. I can not give an accurate estimate of enemy fighter strength- they keep slipping by, and, showing up again." He was clearly frustrated at the losses.
"What about your bondsman? Has she been of any use?" Nathan asked.
Nigel coloured, and, said, "No. She speaks in riddles and rhymes, she obeys well enough, but... I believe the woman is quite mad, actually. Nothing she says makes sense except that 'MissLiz is going to come after all of you', a direct quote from her ravings... I find her to be quite incoherent, most of the time." He paused, warily, before he continued, "Under interrogation, she speaks the most awful mixture of Russian and Chinese- as if she forgets english entirely, I was going to ask to borrow your Watcher, maybe she can make something of that madwoman's babbling." His tone was plaintive, frustrated. Nathan glanced over at Shel, "This new information we have, eliminates the need for you to accompany the reconaissance force, Shel, and, I think you need some time aboard the dropship... You will assist Star Captain Von Jankmon in sorting out his Bondsman, beginning tomorrow." Shel's mouth dropped open, and, she stood up.
"Sir, that is a very bad idea- as is dropping in with insufficient information, you do not know the numbers, or, dispositions of the Enemy, you will be dropping right on top of the ace-number-one artillery target in the area, based on a limited series of Holoimages that do not correspond to-" Nathan raised one hand, and, said, "Enough! I understand your eagerness to put forward with the Reconaissance plan, But, this information changes everything- we have to neutralize their Aerospace Assets. Your chance for Glory will come in time." He said it firmly,but, gently. You completely missed my point... Shel fumed, and, briefly, thought of challenging the Order in the Traditional way. "Star Captain, if you were to leave a guard force behind, to maintain the base..." she said, reasonably. "Ah... I will leave Star Captain Icaza, yes... and Third Beak- as well as a star of Elementals, when we break their Airbase, you can assist in hunting down their survivors at your leisure." Nathan said it, Morgan looked shocked, but, unlike Shel, said nothing.
Afterward, as they walked out of the Offices, Morgan stopped Shel. "You were right, but, If the men do not get some chance to fight an enemy soon, Nathan will have a hard time controlling them- even with my help." He told her, adding, "Von Jankmon is a fine Warrior, and, no fool, but, I smell the same trap you do. Tonight, I will... discuss our options with the Star Captain, privately. You are lucky he did not place Peter Malthus in charge of base defense, or, we might find you dead if and when we returned. Take care with that tongue of yours, being a Watcher means you get away with much, but, it can still trap you, Quiaff?"
Shel nodded sadly, "Aff, Star Captain, I will...remember that, thank you, sir."
Morgan patted her head with one, huge, hand, "Be Careful what you say, and, to whom, Favour is fickle, and you are small." He turned left, she turned right, and, they went to their designated posts without another word exchanged.
Peter was waiting ahead of her, his Field uniform spotless on his seven foot frame. "Made you eat your words, did he?" the former Salamander Commander sneered. Shel nodded, "Aff." He laughed at her. Shel held back, keeping her expression slightly 'Intimidated'. He spread his hands, and, said, "Look! I am off-duty! You know, you'd be cute, screaming..." he stepped towards her menacingly, as he added, "no Morgan Icaza to help you here, Stravag... Let's improve your looks." He swung at her-blindingly fast.
Shel saw stars, then, darkness. the last thing she heard, was the sound of cloth, ripping.
Re: ...and every Mother's son will suffer. [re: Cannonshop]
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Camp 1, Minsky's Folley, 1435 hours, 17 October 3063...
"You made sure they saw you land?" Elizabeth asked the shaking Militia pilot. "Aye, right on the Mesa, like ye tol' me to- they got a good look, mebbe too good- that Turk near had me, a'fore the AAA opened up an' had him"
Elizabeth smiled, and, nodded, then, she turned to the Armour officer who brought the pilot back. "They did not see you, though, right?" she asked. He nodded. She rewarded him with a winning smile, and, said, "good, the powercells on those Camo nets, they'll make it through tomorrow, right?" she asked. He nodded, again. She chuckled, and, said, "Your boys are ready for the attack, right? They know what the plan is?"
He nodded again.
Elizabeth was clearly pleased. "Excellent, the Falcons are about to suffer the worst simulation they have ever experienced. go on, then, get some sleep- Leutnant, you've done a fine job, same for you, Kurtz, when this is over, I owe you a bonus, and a case of Timbiqui." The Tanker grinned, and, said, "better make it a Truckload, the boys'll want some. I gotta get back up there now."
Elizabeth laughed, and, said, "you drive a hard bargain, Kurtz, a case it is, and, good Hunting."
The plan was falling right into place...
Farnsworth Mesa, Minsky's Folly Canyon, 18, October, 3063, 0630 hours...
The Jade Dagger swept low, dropping 'mechs and elementals on top of the base. Strings of tracers ripped the air, as figures ran to and fro, trying to get the fighters out of their revettments, and, into the air.
Or, so it seemed.
Nathan Roshak landed his Turkina, and, realized something was terribly wrong- a coolant truck had just passed through his torso. "HOLOGRAMS!!!" he stormed. The "Airbase" was, indeed, a trap. To his left, Mechwarrior Adam's summoner lurched- we have dropped onto a minefield... The entire "Airbase" was nothing more, he realized, firing an autocannon at what his sensors claimed was a hardened building, that the Minefield was the only "Real" part of the Airbase. The Plyplast understructure of the "Building" shattered, leaving a damaged Camouflage Mat, and, a shattered hologram generator. Immediately, a dozen infantrymen vanished- because they never existed. he turned his Turkina to the left, "Find those power sources, shut this thing down, Strider one, find out where those mines are, and, be quick about it, we will have to re-board the Jade Dagger... The enemy is probably moving on the base as we stand here fighting phantoms!" an Explosion- this one real, rent the air with sound, and, a light pressure wave he could barely feel. Artillery! He turned his sensors outward, looking for the large guns that had to be firing. what he found, increasing the gain, on the ridgeline to the south, were several fixed shapes, firing in sequence.
artillery simulators... Clan training on Ironhold had used such devices, to get the young fledgelings used to artillery bombardments. Here, they were mock-artillery, dangerous only if they were to strike too near... and, no doubt, programmed to fire a preset pattern... As the Elemental star moved through, deactivating the Camo nets and the hologenerators, the true shape of things was revealed.
There was a single, empty, fuel tank on one end of a rough, hastily laid, temporary landing strip- a strip that was, as his sensors cleared of noise, the only area on the Mesa-top that was not covered in mines. Another 'Mech, Mark's executioner rocked, as hiis armoured foot set off another small mine. None of these mines are large, and, they are not sown densely- the distance alone would take care of that, these are sown to make movement as difficult as possible... Nathan knew that even a lightly-laid minefield will strip the armour off a 'mech, and, these were too wide for his Turkina to jump across in safety. An elemental rose in the air, pinwheeling his arms, the victim of a careless step.
The airstrip was too narrow, even at the turnaround, for the Dropship to land, this is a trap, alright... Nathan realized.
suddenly, a large Holoimage appeared, and, Nathan took an instinctive step back. It was the face of a woman, their target. "Greetings, By the time you hear this, I will be on my way to the Groves Plant with the remainder of my forces.
To quote a classic Twentieth Century piece of artwork, 'How are you Gentlemen? All your base are belong to us, you are on the way to destruction, you have no chance for survive, make your time.'"
and, then, the Hologram laughed, turned, and, (to Nathan, proving that the woman was unused to making such statements,) said, before the image cut out, "Do you think they'll get the joke?" to someone outside the image's range.
"Clear a space for the Dropship to land, and, hurry." Nathan said, putting actions to words by firing his weapons at the ground around the airstrip.
Groves number four, sixteen minutes after 4 a.m., 18, October, 3063...
The attack started ten minutes after the Jade Dagger lifted off.
It began, with a blanket of ECM falling across the whole valley, covering Nha Tran city, the Spaceport, and, the Groves Manufacturing Number 4 site. This state of affairs was made possible by hooking a Guardian ECM suite into the transmitter towers of WNTK, WKLN, and, the 500000 watt rock and roll station, WREB. Clan communications from the ground base were... annihilated.
The Combat engineer company from Bronze had spent three days preparing the way for their comrades, much to the chagrin of the Clan Techs at the spaceport, who recieved the privelage of having every drain, faucet, tap, and, toilet, explode at precisely 4:20.
None of them, of course, got the joke.
Shel, and, Morgan, were up on the roof, and saw the dust-cloud of approaching tanks. The Tanks were in full "Hoot", running at better than fifty Kph, in a flying W formation.
There were a LOT of tanks.
"I count... sixteen Patton-class, no, that's just the first..wave?"
Shel said. Morgan nodded his large head, "Aff, I count the same in that front rank, the rank following has just as many... there are Armoured Personnel carriers behind them... but- where are the Battlemechs?"
There was still no sign of Battlemechs.
"They could be fighting the rest of Nova Trinary." she said, but, her tone said, no.
From their vantage point, they could see the Wall of armoured vehicles. They could also see something else- the river. Shel directed her attention there. "Choppers, somehow, I do not think they will be playing good-morning-charlie." Morgan looked, and, nodded. "Aff... they are escorting...something small, on the water itself, moving...faster??
The ultralight unit passed the Factory by, heading upstream, straight for the city. Morgan turned up his magnification- and, his suits HUD helpfully identified the tiny, point-like, vehicles.
"Savannahmasters... there must be... sixteen of them, it's a fast Hovercraft used by the Lyrans for scouting and reconaissance." The radio-based Coms were still struggling with heavy jamming and interference, but, the tightbeam and land-line commo was still working, Morgan looked at Shel, and, said, "Thirty-two tanks, plus helicopters... I think we might be slightly outnumbered, Quiaff?"
Shel nodded, "Aff, Star Captain. Slightly. "
at that moment, a pair of F-19 Tigersharks, inner sphere heavy fighters, streaked overhead, followed by several more.
"Just a bit."
Morgan stolidly braced himself, and, said to Shel, "Well the enemy is coming at us from two directions, with the possibility of a third, we are surrounded, they will not get away this time."
Shel caught the joke in his tone, and, laughed despite the way she felt.
Peter Malthus, I hope an assault 'Mech steps on you... she directed the thought out, across the miles, to where the last of the Salamanders were- accompanying the assault force on the airbase.
Defense is stronger, normally. However, an inadequate defense will collapse before overwhelming might.
Overwhelming might, of course, requires a couple of things- one of those being, that the defender be too small in numbers, with too few force multipliers, to hold back the assault.
Twenty-five Elementals versus Thirty tanks is a recipe for disaster for someone. When those twenty-five elementals are spread across a wide front, the disaster is on them.
The conventional forces had brought more than thirty tanks.
Much more than thirty tanks.
Maxim Hovertanks broke from the mass formation, and, swept past the Pattons, accompanied by a formation of J.Edgars, and, Hunter light tanks, while, far back, Heavy Missile carriers stopped, and, dug in, raising their Arrow-IV boxes in azimuths defined days before, their ammunition carriers rolled up behind them, and, prepared to feed the missile-tracks all the ammunition they would require.
Lumbering along at full "Honk", Ontos and Demolisher lances struggled to keep up with the pace set by Pattons and Sturmfuers, while the Hovertanks swept past the factory, peppering defensive positions with missile fire, or, just observing, dependent entirely on what they carried.
meanwhile the Air Cav escorted their small, "Mouelike" friends up the river, bound for the Spaceport, and, the dropship located there.
The mission was simple-draw out the Clan battlearmoured marine contingent, and, keep the ship from launching.
(some of this had been done already- the 'techs for the dropship were busily engaged, finding the sabotage devices a platoon of combat engineers had given the ship's landing gear, engines, and, doors.)
Elizabeth Ngo had only ridden to war once-in a modified Griffin with Triple-Strength Myomer. That one time had left her with permanent nerve damage that made wearing a Neurohelmet a potentially lethal situation. Today, she rode with the Tanks, in a modified Davion style Heavy APC, crowded with commo gear and mapping equipment, including a Command Console set up to control a Regimental unit.
"Initiate phase Delta." she said, and, leaned back. The plan would either work, or, it would not- her subordinate commanders had the ball, now, she could only sit back and watch. Elizabeth chewed at her fingernails, as the air-cap closed out the Clanners remaining fighters, and, struck at their grounded dropship.
"Penny for your thoughts, boss." Lt. Colonel (Brevet) Davies, her XO asked, from his seat opposite her.
"I was worrying about my son." she lied. I was worrying about those boys we are sending in...and, their mothers' faces when they die.
Davies answered, "We'll get him, and, the people that got left behind, back, don't you worry 'bout that."
Every Mother worries about her Son, when the steel is flying... every Mother's son suffers... Clanners don't have mothers. she thought it so fiercely that the last bit came out of her mouth, unbidden. "What's that?" Davies asked.
"Just musing... check Second section Armour, it looks like they're bogging down." she ordered. Davies got "On the Horn" and spoke to the unit's C.O.- apparently, the Clanners had used some of their time wisely- there was a minefield that the tracks would have to negotiate to bring their Deviance 'Shotgun' autocannons to bear.
"Artillery Copper, Fire order, Fire order as follows..." He rattled off coordinates, recieved a confirmation, and, switched channels. "Second Section, pull back ninety-meters, and, hold, we have arty on the way to clear that trap, over."
Kilometers behind them, Arrow-IV and Thumper pieces snuffled the air, then, fired. Twelve artillery pieces spoke as one, hefting a wall of shells into the air.
some Artillery always scatters.
Sometimes this is good, sometimes bad, but, most of the time scattered shells do not do much.
the Minefield was cleared, and, then some.
One scattered shell, from a Thumper, struck a fuel storage tank on the southern side of the factory.
flaming oil washed through unloaded trucks, but, there was no vast thunder-and-blast, the way there had been on the 15th, when six fully-loaded tractor trailers filled with ammunition had chain-detonated in the North lot, killing Copper Team's Battlemechs, taking one of the companies of Silver's infantry, and, ripping a hole for the Jade Falcons to enter the Factory itself.
Elizabeth saw the spreading fire through a composite image picked up by several tanks at once, and,she ordered, "Evasion Blue, I repeat, Evasion Blue, Acknowledge Over."
The commander of Gold Armour, which had not loaded with the 'Mechs, (they had to wait for their dropship to return from a repair yard in Marik Space...) answered her with, "Evasion Blue acknowledged, changing attack pattern, Over."
Farnsworth Mesa, 0800 Hours...
The Dropship could finally land, and, pick up the Jade Falcon task force. Peter Malthus was agitated- there was nothing here for him to fight- the Star Captain had fallen for a foolish trick. He relies on that Stravag Witch too much... well, I got what I wanted from her. The Jade Dagger, a Clan Union-class vessel, dropped its stately bulk down, through the clouds, unimpeded, to settle on the now-safe Mesa top.
Then, the Real artillery bombardment began.
The jaws of the trap were closing, Arrow-IV missiles were coming down, ripple-fired from somewhere to the southeast.
and, then, from the Northwest. Then, from the Southwest...
Then, from the Northeast, the direction that leads to Nha Tran city. The target of this shelling was obvious-as was the purpose. "They are trying to strand us!!!" Peter shouted, and, rushed the dropship, followed closely by his remaining Salamanders, and, his fear.
The Locals were no longer playing fair.
Nathan sighed, as the dropship started to take massive hits from artillery missiles. "We will walk out, Jade Dagger, boost out of here if you can, we will go the slow route, Acknowledge, over."
the voice of the Dropship's commander acknowledged the order with a resigned tone, and, added, "Honour thy Clan, Star Captain." as the ship lumbered upward, shuddering from the fire.
There were three men missing- the remains of a Salamander point. Peter Malthus... Nathan determined that the arrogant Elemental-breed would not be the only survivor of the hilltop ambush, and, that his cowardice under fire would not be permitted to go un-punished.
