|
|
Mercury's Marauders
A story of combat and the price of war
by Steve Zielinski |
|
Lieutenant Ryan Foxx's massive Crockett shook under the impact of a dozen Long-Range-Missiles. More than half of them hit his 'Mech in the very center of its chest, making it that much closer to breaching. His 'Mech was taking a beating and so were the rest of those that made up his lance. They were his responsibility and he was letting them down. And in this business, the only time you got to apologize was when you were standing over your friends' graves. He knew he had to do something.
"Ryan! The Annihilator I was fighting just went down. I'm going to engage that Albatross that's giving you so much trouble." The voice belonged to Heather, his second in command, and his wife.
"No! I want you to help out Diana and Carlina. They may have good mobility, but they're both facing assault class 'Mechs that far outweigh their own." The other two mechwarriors of the lance pilot 'Mechs at the lower end of the heavy class. "And I don't want to hear any objections. Just get your ass over there!" Ryan hated using profanity, but sometimes it was the only way he could get his wife to listen to him, especially when his life might be in danger.
An autocannon round jarred Ryan from his thoughts as it hit his 'Mech in the already damaged right side. Ryan turned in response, hoping to make it harder to hit that side of the torso. As he ran, he fired his 'Mech's whole left side armament. His own autocannon was firing special cluster ammunition. The huge round broke up into smaller pieces immediately after leaving the gun's barrel, acting as an anti-Mech shotgun. Most of the smaller rounds sprayed over the legs of the rival Albatross. The laser housed in Ryan's left arm caused the armor over his enemy's heart to melt and pour down the slope of its chest. Only two of the missiles he fired made contact. One of them hit its target in the head, right below the cockpit's shielding. It would, no doubt, shake up the pilot, but that wouldn't last long. The other missile hit over the beast's heart, in the same spot that the large laser had. The other four missiles, along with the small laser he had fired, missed wide and created small pits in the relatively wet ground. This section of the continent rarely suffered from the horrible storms that plagued the southern region.
The return fire wasn't as bad as he had anticipated, making a smile spread across Ryan's face. Either the laser or the missile must have damaged the shielding around the fusion reactor that supplies power to the giant monster. If this was the case, the level of heat would have sky-rocketed, making it very unwise to fire many weapons at one time. The enemy pilot only shot his twin right arm lasers and a rack of Short-Range-Missiles. Ryan was fortunate that only one missile hit. It did a little damage to his left leg but it was slight. Both the small lasers melted armor off Ryan's left arm. He knew it was almost untouched, but he did notice the ready light for his own small laser, housed in that arm, blink out. It must have been damaged. No big loss. At this range, it wasn't very effective anyway.
Ryan, knowing his 'Mech's heat dissipation was very good, fired all his weapons mounted on the left side of his centuries old Crockett. The huge laser found its target on the center torso once again, melting more armor. He was marginally luckier this time with the hits of four missiles spreading over his enemy's right side. The autocannon roared and sent tiny slugs flying at the rest of the Albatross. One must have breached the already thin armor over its heart, because Ryan saw smoke flow from a hole he couldn't see. He smiled slowly, knowing his opponent was as good as defeated. He also knew his unit's policy in such cases.
"Enemy unit," he said into his mic. The words would be projected over his 'Mech's external speaker system. "You and I both know your 'Mech is crippled. You have fought well, but I do not believe you can defeat me if this continues to the death, but that is your choice. I suggest another option. The Marauders do offer quarter to all prisoners. You would be treated well, and if you voluntarily surrender, you may be released when we finish our campaign. What say you?"
The female pilot of the Albatross surprised Ryan Foxx by agreeing to his proposal. "I will surrender to you. Your skill was evident in our fight and I believe that you are honorable. Your unit's reputation precedes your arrival in system. The Marauders are known, even amongst pirates such as myself, as a unit to be trusted, yet never taken lightly. Had we known you would be the ones to defend this planet, we would have chosen a different system to assault. I now give myself to you. Command me."
Foxx was stunned. Even fighting the filth of the Periphery, pilots were more than willing to subject themselves to the will of the Marauders. This woman would make the first prisoner of war on this backwater planet called Chronis VIII. "Disable your 'Mech and climb down to its feet. I will summon a craft to come for you. I only hope you will have some fellow warriors to converse with." Ryan was a little surprised when his sensors showed that she was doing just as he said.
Ryan turned his machine so he could see the rest of the battlefield. He almost immediately regretted it. The damage to the land itself was unbelievable. Mini craters appeared all across the landscape, slowly filling with rainwater. Scrap armor lay every few meters. He felt like a tourist visiting an old war site from the Succession Wars. Not one planet of the Inner Sphere had been unaffected by the Wars. They were between all of the five Successor States that had been created after the fall of the Star League, over three hundred years ago. Ryan only hoped his warriors fared better than those in the almost ancient, but never forgotten battles.
There was no more fighting going on. It appeared that each of his lancemates had survived, their 'Mechs intact. There was no doubt in his mind that this was because he had sent Heather to help them out.
"Status report," he said over their lance's frequency just to make sure everyone was okay.
"Diana here, I'm a bit shaken up, but I'll be okay." Her voice cracked as she spoke. Something was wrong. "Carlina's not in her 'Mech." Ryan could hear the tears in her voice. He was getting scared.
"Why isn't she in her 'Mech?" Ryan almost didn't want to hear her answer.
"She isn't in her 'Mech because she's checking on Heather. I'm sorry Ryan, but Heather's 'Mech took an autocannon slug to the head. She hasn't responded since."
Tears flowed from Ryan's eyes as he listened to Diana's reply. He felt his stomach tighten and his muscles tense. He had to get out there. He pulled on the quick release cords of his restraining straps and nearly fell out of his command couch. He made it as far as the hatch in the back of his 'Mech's head before he puked. Today's half digested breakfast, along with a lot of stomach acid, splattered against the wall of the cockpit. His stomach wretched a few more times, trying to expel what wasn't there. When he felt able, he opened the hatch and climbed out onto his machine's shoulder. He dropped the rope ladder to the ground. As he began to climb down, he heard someone speaking through the speakers of his neurohelmet. He didn't care what was being said. All he was concerned with was getting to his wife.
The relatively long journey to the feet of Heather's twin Crockett was considerably fast because Ryan hadn't even taken the time to breathe as he ran to his wife. He was running on pure adrenaline. When he reached the still 'Mech, he fell to his knees as the lack of oxygen caught up with him. The edges of his vision started to go black as his brain tried to force him to pass out, but his heart refused to let him. He took in many quick, shallow breathes to get himself going again. He slowly began to feel better so he stood up, but he did so too fast and pain shot through his head as he was forced to the ground again. This time he was patient and waited until he was sure he could stand. Ryan found the ladder hanging down from the back of the battlemech and climbed it as fast as he could, which was actually rather slow. When he reached the top, he hesitated. If something was wrong with her, did he want to see? Or did he want to remember her the way she was?
I want to see her, he decided. I owe it to her! Ryan steeled himself for what he might see inside his wife's cockpit, and slowly walked across the giant's shoulder to the open hatch in front of him. He couldn't see the small couch that his wife would have been sitting in from where he was, but he could see shattered control circuits all over the place. As he neared the opening, broken plastiglass crunched beneath his feet. The broken material once formed the viewport that allows a mechwarrior to see the battlefield. It was slightly tinted to prevent laser fire from blinding a pilot. To match her 'Mech's paint scheme, Heather's viewport had been tinted a dark shade of crimson.
Ryan forced himself to continue and slowly rounded the corner, keeping his head lowered. It took him a moment to raise it and stare at what was left of the cockpit. He saw Carlina Kogs, his lancemate and one of Heather's closest friends, kneeling beside a small and limp body. He noticed that Carlina wasn't even looking at the body's face. Her head was lowered to the point at which her chin rested on her breast and she was crying with such emotion that Ryan had never seen anything like it and never would for the rest of his life. The show of emotion made Ryan's own tears flow faster and with more force. He didn't want to believe what he knew was true. He slowly traversed the distance between himself and the body. It lay amongst a mass of scorched plastic and metal, a lot of it being on top of her precious body. He'd later be happy that he couldn't see the lower half of her body, both legs having been severed. What he could see was splashed with blood, her clothes soaked in it. The sight was something straight out of a holovid. The sunlight coming through the space where the viewport had been made it very clear that she was gone forever. A shard of Heather's command console was sticking out of one side of her neck. Ryan couldn't bring himself to pull it out, despite the urge to do just that.
Carlina looked up with a slightly surprised look on her face. It was as if she hadn't noticed his presence in the cockpit 'til that very moment. Her eyes sparkled as the unfiltered sunlight hit the tears beneath them. She was an angel in this room of chaos. Ryan saw her mouth the words "I'm sorry," be he looked away.
His gaze fell on his wife again. He knelt down next to her and searched through the pile of debris for something, but he didn't know what. He abandoned his search and looked at the still face and was momentarily relieved that her eyes were closed. He lifted his wife's hand to his lips and kissed it. Then he laid it back down on the pile of trash that surrounded and encompassed her.
He struggled in his effort to stand, but finally made it to his feet. He stared out at the beauty of the sun. It would soon be setting, ending the day. Ryan couldn't care less. His day was already over. The only thing he had left was his two children. He stared at the sun for quite sometime. He stared until the sun was no longer there, just thinking about the great times he had shared with his now departed wife. His thoughts flew from one moment to the next, until they settled on something he had felt before. He tried to remember what he was looking for near his wife. Then he remembered. He was searching for something to remember her by. |
|
|
|
|
| Page :
1 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
