Freedom of the Snow
Prologue: Old memories
OLD CONNAUGHT
Ark Royal, Lyran Alliance
1730-01-22-3073
Scenery of a city block passes by the edge of the screen as the camera feed comes up showing a woman in a jumpsuit with light brown hair streaming out from underneath an open faced rider’s helmet sitting behind a man piloting a battle mech of some kind in a full star league era coolant suit and heavy boots. The lines and look on his face show that he is either older than what one would think the norm, or else he has seen enough friends lost that the sorrow lines his face along with his age.
“Jessica Andrews, Ark Royal News seven, I’m here on evening patrol with Major James Wolfson of Wolfson’s Heavy Raiders in his Mad Cat Tender Mercy. Major, you and your command lance were thought lost on Tharkad by Dragoon command and General Wolf when the Word of Blake launched their attack on the fifth of December 3067. Could you tell us, why was your command lance the only part of your short battalion there and what happened?”
The man sighs slightly, a haunted look in his eyes seeming to return him to those not so long ago battlefields before he answers.
“I can tell you, though your viewers might not find it all that mysterious or interesting, but that day, like tonight, my lance was on patrol around the city perimeter.” He answers. “Archon Peter Steiner had asked that since my unit was on its way to Outreach to meet up with the rest of the Dragoons in the wake of Commander Wolf’s death, that my command lance assist in providing security to that meeting of the Star League Council. I don’t think he had any clue what was going to happen with the meeting, but I do believe something was worrying him because he had two Regimental Combat Teams on standby to react to anything we chased up. He sent a Leopard to pick me and my choice of people up from Grauss, a stopover on our way to Outreach. I brought all four of my clan mechs and their pilots came with me, they were my best people; of course they were able to come.
He sighs again, deeper, as if something is causing him physical pain.
“Like I said before, we were on patrol at the edge of the city when the drop port and the Triad went up at the beginning of the attack.” He continued.” The Eleventh Arcturan was battered down to practically nothing, and the Twenty-fourth had lost their aerospace and maybe half their infantry by the time we got to the drop port. Blakists were combat dropping all across the city, but they were mostly concentrated on the port and beating the Lyrans away like it was easy. We blasted near got shot by some of the Twenty-fourth’s mechs as we came in behind them. It was a mess for a minute until we were able to talk our way through and go search for the archon while the twenty-fourth held the door open for our escape.”
“Once out of the city, all of the units scattered, breaking things down to the lance level so as to make them harder to find as they went to ground.
The man chuckles for a second and then shakes his head before continuing.
“I say we split up,” he continues. “In truth I don’t think many of us were more than half an hour’s travel from any one other group. Hiding that much metal around those mountains though, that was a tough game to play against the Blakists, and getting into towns so we could resupply became really hazardous for both us and the civilians that would help us. Sometimes I would swear the bloody WoBles were psychic, especially when they would be waiting for us with hunter killer teams to try and trap the Archon. Ever see a mech extract itself from a snow bank taller than it is, it’s a hoot, especially when a dozen mechs pop up all of a sudden to blast a group of the enemy. Not so much fun when they do it to you. I think a couple of times we caught an entire company worth of mechs in avalanches on the face of Olympus. And hiding yourself was easy with a gauss rifle or some other mech sized slug thrower if you put yourself under a tree. The sonic boom alone would drop most of the snow out of one of those massive evergreen’s limbs. I’ll tell you something though; I don’t ever want to go back. Honest to heavens, that malfing planet is to bloody cold, and another thing I’ll tell you. You look in that locker behind my seat; you’re going to find a pack rifle, a good snow parka, and a shovel. If I ever eject out of this thing, or if I have to abandon her somewhere, I’m going to have those three things just in case I need them, because I did need them there on Tharkad. Oh gods did I need each and every one of them.”
The man shudders some, lost in a memory to horrible to describe properly to someone who had not been there in the snows of four Tharkad winters waiting for someone to come and help get him away. His attention however is jerked back to the present by something that has been said where only he can hear.
“Confirm that?” he asks into his radio, turning the internal speakers of the mech on so that his passenger is able to hear.
“…Raider lead, there has been an explosion at the meeting hall. Current casualties are unknown and we are already rolling the MASH units and the medivac VTOLs in response. Do you have any other orders for us at this time?” the voice on the other end is seemingly only slightly younger, female and with distinct Japanese accent.
“Aff Demonbane,” Wolfson answers. “Put the bandits and their infantry on close security with the regulators at the approaching intersections. Roll Rat’s salvage armor to the scene as well, they may be needed, we’ll maintain our perimeter.”
“Acknowledged Raider lead,” the female voice answered. “My fighter squadron as well as Rabbit’s mechbuster squadron are on standby for if there is a target.”
“Understood, Raider lead clear,” Wolfson finished clearing the frequency and shutting off the speakers. “Now we have to wait and see what happened and what the aftermath is going to be.” He remarks over his shoulder at the reporter. “Is there anything else you would like to know Miss?”
Long past the time of night,
We found no morning light.
Blizzard covered all the world we'd known.
Beyond all reach of law,
We looked around and saw
The ice age come to find us all alone.
Cancel my salvation, Give me leave to go
Back to the freedom of the snow, ah, the snow.
OLD CONNAUGHT
Ark Royal, Lyran Alliance
1730-01-22-3073
James Wolfson sat in the corner booth of a bar staring at the glass of vodka in front of him. Hanrahan’s was a nice “Irish” bar in a decent part of town, but the location and the alcohol didn’t matter, the memories still were there, fighting to overwhelm him. What everyone was already calling the “Donner Bombing” wasn’t even a week old but the death toll, the death toll while not that significant in numbers was eclipsing even the burning of the Triad for significance of who had died. Maeve Wolf, the heir to the Dragoons old commanding officer Jaime Wolf lay dead as did Peter Steiner, the archon of the Lyran Alliance. The three people who held James’s loyalty lay dead and his soul cried for bloody vengence. The only people who had ever earned his loyalty lay dead at Blakist workings, and like when the Blakists had dropped the whole universe into the cauldron of Hell when they attacked Tharkad five years before, blood was demanded. Now though, he would be allowed to finish it, and heavens save any who got in his way.
Like now, it had started so innocently. The host of the Star League Council for that year’s meeting had asked for a balance to the Word of Blake presence from Wolf’s Dragoons who were in the midst of cleaning up on Outreach. It was supposed to just be a show the flag with his best mechs and pilots, no combat. Maeve had agreed catching him on Grauss and having him and a “Mech Lance” of his choosing await a Leopard dropship that would be fast tracked to Tharkad for the Council meeting. “Put yourself at their disposal. Everyone is smarting from us breaking contract because of father’s death.” Maeve told him by HPG. “You answer to the Archon himself and no one else though, this is a personal contract with him, but if he simply has you line your mechs up to look pretty then you do that as well. Nothing is below you on this mission, understand.” James had understood and affirmed that and when the Leopard dropship arrived he took his three clan mechs and one of his EW mechs for a “command lance” and reported to Tharkad like he had been ordered.
As he had told the reporter on the night of the “Donner Bombing” his lance had been on patrol when everything went south. The council meetings had broken up with the dissolution of the second Star League within a day of it starting. The Lyrans and the Suns had withdrawn from the League itself to see to their own problems in their own nations, and the Free Worlds League and the Word of Blake representatives had been unable to convince them to return especially in the wake of the Capellan Confederation’s message calling the entire council a sham. It was the dissolution of the Council that started the whole Jihad, that and the fact that the Blakists couldn’t stand to lose or be ignored.
Tharkad City,
Tharkad, Lyran Alliance
December 5, 3067
“What the hell was that?” Major James Wolfson asked on his lance’s command circuit as he turned his Timberwolf into the blast and looked at the mushroom cloud rising in the distance. “Sweet mother of the founder!” he swore as he watched naval laser fire start falling in and around where the drop port and the Triad were in the distance. “All Raiders check in.” he ordered.
“Hot and ready boss” Captain Emelia “Lawless” Lawler answered as she walked her Night Gyr around the corner of the adjoining block. “Holy hell sir, did someone just nuke the drop port?”
“Don’t think so Lawless,” Lieutenant Kevin “Radar” O’Reilly answered from his custom built Bushwacker. “I’m not picking up any, wait, there it is. Ok, someone set off a nuke at ground or sub-ground level. Sir, I’m also reading multiple hot drops and lots of orbital gunfire on surface targets.”
“Do we have any idea who has come to play?” Lieutenant Alphonse “Big Al” Harmon asked his low slung Cauldron born taking up the fourth point of the defensive posture.
“Word of Blake seems to be a little upset that the Council disbanded.” Kevin answered, “They’re calling for all the representatives to return to Tharkad and resume the meetings. What are our orders sir?”
The question caused James to grunt slightly, it wasn’t that the question was unexpected, but that he didn’t know for certain. What he did know was that the Blakists were landing on the minimal support his people had brought with them, so unless they could get resupply and relatively soon then the fight would be over before it really even began. “First try and get ahold of any Lyran command and see what they want from us.” James answered starting the foursome of mechs moving toward the fighting. “While we do that though we are going to go into that furrball there and try and make sure that the Archon is safe. If we can do that without engaging the enemy right away that will be perfect. I never expect perfection though so be ready to rip apart any blakist mech you see. Be careful though, double check your targets and watch your heat levels, this is going to be a lot of surprise targets and questionable identities so watch your backs and each other’s backs as well.”
“Sir, I’m facing a lot of heavy jamming. I might be able to burn through but it would take time and I wouldn’t have a lot of range with it. As of now we seem to be on line of sight communications until we can either get out of range of or take out whatever they have jamming my signals.” Kevin told them.
James sighed. “Alright movement to contact rules of engagement, we have practiced for this people, let’s get it done.” And with that James picked up the pace till the mechs were practically running down the boulevards toward the fighting.
