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Battletech meets Jurasic Park
by Demun God |
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"What the hell was that!" Sheraton demanded, seeing a fireball rise into the sky behind the police building.
"I don't know, Sarge, but we's got us some unwanted comp'ny."
"Dammit!" Sheraton pounded his fist against his primary monitor. "Ground-1, get clear! Get clear!"
The Guillotine turned to face the new threats, both newer, more up-to-date designs, than the older Blackjack and Hatchetman. The 35-ton Night Hawk packed an extended-range large laser, a normal large laser, and a medium pulse laser. The large lasers could wreck havoc on anything it touched, as the medium pulse laser added extra punch. This Mech was averagely-armed compared to what walked with it. The oddly-shaped Hollander was basically a walking Gauss Rifle. The cannon was almost as big as the Mech, itself also weighing in at 35-tons. In its design phase, the whole Mech had been built around the Gauss Rifle. The cannon was strapped across the Mech's shoulders, so when firing, it had to turn sideways. In the hands of a skilled pilot, this was of no concern. Second only to the 120mm autocannon, one of which was mounted on the Hunchback's right shoulder, the Gauss Rifle was the deadliest weapon in a Mech's arsenal. Both Mechs had split up, and were flanking Graham Boulevard, both one block over on each side. The Hatchetman and Blackjack were staying at distance, but were directly lined up with the two police Mechs' thin rear armor.
"Harrison cover my back!" Sheraton shouted, as he moved to engage the Hollander, in Sheraton's mind; the most dangerous Mech on the 'battlefield'.
"Sarge!" Frank yelled back in frustration, as the Blackjack cracked yet more armor off the 50-tonner.
"Take the Night Hawk! Break away, if you can regroup Northeast!"
"Roger Sarge!"
The adrenaline-rush in Frank's body pushed him, into his first 'combat-mode'. Through the fuzz and snow of his garbled sensors, he guessed the Night Hawk had made its way down 13th street, in an attempt to sneak up on the police Mechs. Frank had other plans. A smile crept onto his face as he remembered the days when he used to watch wrestling entertainment sports on holovid. He got his Mech ready, just waiting. He fired off a few quick laser bursts, to keep the older merc Mechs back. As the Night Hawk rounded the corner, Frank launch his Mech to full speed. With his Hunchback's left arm held out, he slammed it into the Night Hawk, catching it, right below the Mech's cockpit. The merc Mech's legs kept running, as the impact stopped the upper portion of its body cold. The result was a Mech-size 'clothesline', which knocked the light Mech flat on its back, before its pilot even knew what hit him. Frank hastened a kick to the head, for good measure, but was off, the Hunchback's foot instead crashing into the downed Mech's shoulder. With that, Frank headed for the destination point.
"Dammit!" Sheraton shouted for the umpteenth time. The Hollander pilot was good. The Blackjack and Hatchetman decided to join in, once the Hollander had committed itself to the counterattack. They had basically surrounded the Guillotine and were continuously pouring fire into it. A few lucky shots had disabled the 70-tonner's jump jets, so it had no where to go. Finally, a Gauss Rifle round to the leg literally blew it off, in a shower of sparks and flame. Black smoke immediately plumed from the Mech stump as Sheraton lost control and fell to the ground. His helmeted head slammedagainst the back of his sit blurring his vision, and causing him to lose partial feeling in his limbs.
A transmission came across a general frequency simply stating, "Surrender rebel, or die."
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Graham City Southern Police Station, Guiasar
Free Worlds League
17 December 3065
Dressed in combat fatigues, a smug Lieutenant Colonel Donald Moore looked on as an infantry trooper worked over Police-Sergeant James Sheraton. Hands bound to the back of a steel chair; Sheraton was helpless to do anything buttake the pain. A solid right cross to Sheraton's already dark-purple, bloated cheek exploded his vision into a spectrum of color as his vision instantly blurred. His head snapped to his right, as the impact almost knocked him over. With a short nod from Moore, the trooper backed away.
Moore stepped forward, "Hurts doesn't it, Officer." He stated matter-of-factly.
Through short gasps of air, the captured MechWarrior mumbled, "MechOfficer James Sheraton, Graham City Police Depart-"
Moore stepped back as the Mobile Fire trooper instantly came around, his right fist flying squarely onto the left side of Sheraton's jaw.
"Now Officer Sheraton, I don't need to know your name, your place of 'station'", Moore held up the first two fingers on both hands, making a quotes motion, "Or your social security number. You'd be surprised what information I got on you, and the rest of your little rebel band. I know only two out of five of your MechWarriors have combat experience."
Moore took a few seconds to think, "Lieutenant Donovan MacAllister ring a bell? He's your Stalker pilot, eh?"
Sheraton barely had any strength left to talk, so he simply met eyes with Moore.
"You cops have great record-keeping skills. Making notes where needed and leaving out the rest of the crap that isn't important. Kinda wish military records were like that, but no, they have to put every little single thing in your whole military career down on paper."
Moore smiled evilly, "Your other Mech pilots don't stand a chance. I will give you one chance to send out a message for them to surrender peacefully. I can promise no harm will come to them."
James barely was able to move his head to the left and right, before pain shot through his face and neck. Moore shook his head clearly, unbelieving that this man wouldn't give up simple information needed to put this rebellion down, "You are a stubborn man, MechWarrior. You weren't so stubborn when that Lyran assault went off, catching your company completely off guard, eh? How fast did your unit retreat? The Lyrans fired a total of twenty-five times, before your whole unit was in retreat?" Moore asked in mocking shock.
The verbal assault from Moore revitalized the strength in Sheraton as anger started to take the place of pain. He licked the fresh blood from his puffy, dark-purple lips as Moore continued, "Hey," Moore raised a finger, "That's reminds me. How'd you like that little surprise I left at the holding pen at the Central Station? Pretty swift, eh?" Moore smiled and crossed his arms, proud that his plan had worked.
"It was only a matter of time. Your little band would need all the firepower it could get. If your spies saw that the Harassers and the Hetzer were still in the pen, you'd jump at the bit to try a smash-and-grab." Moore chuckled, "The Vulcan was added insurance to take out any survivors. Unfortunately, the pilot got a little trigger happy and killed all of them."
This was said to break down Sheraton, when in reality two officers had escaped the well-laid ambush. Sheraton realized the explosion he had seen at the rear of the Central Station must have been one of the vehicles set with explosives. The anger in Sheraton rose to a boiling point. Without any clue before hand, Sheraton rose to his feet, his arms still bound around the chair. In one fluid motion, he took a step forward and spun around. One of the legs of the chair caught Moore on the side of the knee, knocking him to the floor. As Sheraton turned to see the results of his action, stars exploded in his vision as something slammed against the side of his face.
The strength immediately left him as the impact almost lifted his feet off the floor and crashed down, landing shoulder-first on the solid floor. Anger flashed across the Lieutenant Colonel's face, as he rubbed his leg. He quickly replaced it with a smile that reeked of falsehood, "That was a good shot, Officer. Didn't think you had that much strength left in you." Moore chuckled, "Guess that's what I get for thinking."
"Getting back on the records-thing, I have a question for you. How do you feel about Lieutenant Donovan MacAllister bumping you from the Number One spot in the 'Mech Division'?"
Sheraton's anger was evident, but Moore could tell that it was no longer directed at him. Sheraton had had a free ride in the police department as the number one MechWarrior, until that military brat came back, and with not having to work for anything, just bumped him out, like he was yesterday's trash. Sure he had crossed the line a few times, but being a police officer was rough. He was only human, and sometimes emotions got the better of him, but a few little pink slips in your file was not grounds for a demotion.
The look was all Moore needed to put his plan into reality, "Tell ya what, James. I hope its OK to call you 'James'. If you help me get rid of MacAllister, I would give you command of the Graham City police force, once this little fight is over. This city would basically be yours. I'm sure a good word in the Archon's ear could make you planetary governor even."
Sheraton's dream of being on top, had been a long-existing one. This mercenary was offering to turn that dream into reality. For the first time since his capture two days ago, Sheraton smiled.
**************************
When Donovan, Raymond, and EOD expert Vicki Klashnikov returned from a successful mission, the make-shift base was in chaos. The group of police officers and other supporting personnel was frightfully smaller than when Donovan had left. Donovan also noticed that they were shy two police cruisers.
As the groups began noticing than Donovan was present, they got quiet.
Donovan looked around, "what happened?"
Everyone started talking at once, some shouting to be heard over others.
Donovan immediately shook his head then waved his hands in the air, "Hold on!"
Donovan scanned the crowd, then pointed, "You. You were on the raid. What happened."
The officer looked across the small crowd, to his partner, the only two, to escape the blood bath, "They had set an ambush for us. As soon as we got into one of the Harassers, it exploded. Then a Vulcan stepped out of the Mech bay, and proceeded to slaughter us whole-sale."
Donovan's heart sank, realizing most of the police officers that were on that raid had trained on those vehicles and were also well-trained mechanics. Behind the crowd stood four Mechs. Donovan's heart sank lower, "Where's James."
Frank Harrison stepped out from the crowd, shaking his head; "James didn't make it. He was surrounded, but still ordered me to head for the regroup point."
"Did you see his Mech go down?"
Frank lowered his head, "Yes."
Donovan's sorrow turned to frustration; frustration turned to anger. He wanted to turn around and punch the wall, but held his temper in check. Donovan took a few minutes to push his anger down. In that time, one of the surviving officers from the Central Station raid came forward, "Sir, we picked up a young woman on the way back. She has some information which may be very useful to you."
Donovan silently thanked the man, that he may have brought this woman, baring good news of any kind, that he could use, to regain the upper hand in this fight. |
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