"When It Rains", Part 2
- Date: August 7, 3031
- Location: Calderon Firebase, Commander's Quarters
Lieutenant Dallas regarded the data and frowned in thought. "Well, we have the Stalker, Awesome, and Thunderbolt as our heavy defenders. The Ostsol, Shadow Hawk, and Griffin stand ready but we've run into problems getting the Dervish ready." His fingers stopped tapping and she glanced up to see him staring at her. "A minor malfunction with the jump jet control system. The techs assure me they only need to fabricate replacement parts. A week, maybe nine days at the most."
"We may not have it." He looked up at the ceiling. "They have an Atlas, where the hell did they find one?" That gaze dropping back to the Lieutenant, who had her head tilted. "No, I don't expect you to have an answer. That is the real threat they have, and it's not an insurmountable one." He stood up and walked to the window, frowning out it. "I want you to have the Shadow Hawk and Griffin run patrols. Once the Locust and Wasp are ready, add them to the patrols. I want to know six hours before any attackers move to engage."
"Have you considered trying to reach anyone to help us?"
"Who? With the HPG Relay shut to us, we can't put a call out for anyone outside the system. Locally?" He slowly sat down, sighing. "The Oathsworn won't talk with us, and the senate keeps claiming no responsibility for what happens. That woman Kreiss wants too much for any help, so we're on our own."
"Why the Oathsworn?"
"They are the only ones with more hardware than us on the planet." Commander Pryde leaned back again, folding his hands in his lap. "But they've been here longer, and Tybalt keeps claiming their contract isn't to bail us out. Not even making any attempts to reach an arrangement, either."
"You think they know where the cache is?"
Pryde snorted dismissal, waving his hand. "If they did, they'd be gone instead of digging in. They're as much in the dark as we are. And I was really hoping to find something to report before the end of the year." He shook his head. "First thing is first. We're on the defensive for now while this damn communications blackout is going on. If they don't attack in the next two weeks, I'll have to reconsider trying to take the offense again."
"Sir, if we just wait for them-"
"I know. But we can't communicate to units in the field, then we're going to be at a disadvantage unless we go all-in. And I'm not going all-in yet." The commander folded his arms. "I'm confident, if we can get those turrets active we should be able to handle them. Even the Atlas."
- Date: August 10, 3031
- Location: DropShip "Nameless"
The head tech sighed, and pointed. "Well, the short answer is a shortage of parts. And we're going to play a game I like to call 'good news, bad news'." He folded his hands behind his back. "Bad news. We've run through a lot of the extra parts left by our ex-friend to fix the Hatchetmen, since they're not widely available. The good news is, I've got a crew member who is drawing up a method of adapting more generic parts for the same weight class. We should be able to adapt something in a week, and get your third Hatchetman ready again."
"Okay, that's a week longer than I wanted. What about the Cataphract?"
"Similar answer. That thing is all-Capellan in origin and they designed a few key parts to be available only from their suppliers. Since you're not with them, well, that also means needing to get to work fabricating. Guess what? It's bad news time."
Adamant turned around, and scowled. "I am really hating this game."
"Welcome to the club, we have cookies." The head tech spat on the deck below, making a tech look up and then scurry onward. "I can either fabricate the parts for the Cataphract, or for the Hatchetman, but not both at the same time. Twelve days, I think, should cover both."
"I really hate this."
"If we could get in contact with scrap or salvage yards on the planet or elsewhere, I could get spares easier. Guess what? Until we can talk to anyone else long-range, we're stuck fabricating."
"Then don't let me keep you, chief, get to work." Adamant waved him off, and looked to the side as C approached with a folded sheaf of papers. "Please tell me this is good news."
"It's weird news. Apparently the interference isn't random noise, according to the computer. Of course, it can't figure it out but it did figure out there's a pattern repeating. Our genius comm specialist thinks she can force our systems to ignore it to try to cut down the noise, but when I asked how soon it could happen she sounded uncertain."
Adamant rolled his eyes. "If she wants to waste time on it, fine, so long as it's not going to get in our way if anyone attacks. Is that all you have?" He stopped as C pushed the papers at him. "Okay, print medium why?"
"Because there's something else, and it was buried in our contract pretty deep. I found it because I got very bored. Did you know we're right now looking at only being paid if we can offer definitive proof of what the other mercenaries are here for?" C folded his arms. "And that's for partial payment. Full payment is if we can show what they're after, and provide proof we put them off the planet. And having that first combat, then this last bit with Pryde's Crucible? I'm not liking the odds here."
"We can beat it-"
"Look, sir." C inhaled slowly. "I'm with you on this. You got almost everyone out of the incident on Cylene, and managed to bounce back from what would have broken others. Has broken others. Right now we're looking at a contract which is very easily going to be the death of us."
"See, that's where I see it differently." Adamant clapped C on the shoulder, and handed back the papers. "I look at all this, and I see an opportunity to rebuild and prosper." He walked past, and waved his hand vaguely. "But first thing's first, and the first thing? Commander Pryde needs to go fall."
- Date: August 29, 3031
- Location: Calderon Firebase, Outer Perimeter
Another voice, distorted from the scrambling being fixed. "Sassy. Read you clear, no static."
"Deadeye. Everything sounds good. Could be better." There were more voices, but the listener had already swung himself to sit in the driver's seat properly and stabbed the ignition circuit.
And so Private Filmore tore off along the road, swearing under his breath and doing his best to avoid the problematic parts of the ground between here and the base. They were on their way, and Commander Pryde needs to know. Behind him, eight BattleMechs continued their steady march towards Calderon Firebase.
Adamant twisted the dial on his comm system, hearing a feedback squeal as the channel switched. "Harbingers. Remember the battle plan." He stared at his sensors, and focused himself as he held the Atlas on the edge of the base. Two Lances are present, beginning to organize into firing positions and seeming to be preparing to greet his Harbingers with all the resistance they could muster. Not that it would matter, as Adamant planned on paying them back for every gram of trouble they caused him.
"Harbingers, I hear their commander is likewise taking the field. I want him downed hard. If any of those bastards take one of us down, I want two of theirs dismantled and left as scrap. We're here to send a message to any sorry soul who thinks we are going to fold. We've been to Hell these last couple years, Harbingers, and we're still standing." His lips curled into a grin. "Let's show them what it feels like. Advance."
"Crucible." Commander Pryde watched as the sensors picked up the approaching units. "Everyone focus on the Atlas if you can. IF you can't, then focus on the biggest and meanest thing you can see. We need to put their Assault 'Mechs down hard. Let the turrets soften them up first, then we strike."
He sat back in the Warhammer's cockpit and flexed his fingers as the engagement began. The weapons flared to life just before he heard an explosion, and he glanced down. "North Turret is down." He glanced around, thinking on what to do first while watching the Ostsol supporting him sprint out across the open field.
He quietly moved forward to back up the Thunderbolt as it advanced to fire on enemies, and felt his heart briefly skip a beat. "Warning, pilot trouble detected." He heard in his ear. "Vital signs out of normal range."
"Commander?"
"I'm fine." He said back, seeing the Awesome and Cataphract advancing through the smoke. He aimed at the odd Medium 'Mech in the forefront and fired off both PPCs into it. "Report, Dallas." He heard a warning alarm for the heat from firing those weapons, and slapped it away with a hand - it wasn't critical yet, he knew he could watch it.
She was in the Stalker, and he heard heat alarms from her as well. "Sir. We have the Atlas on the southern approach. The 8Q is engaging, the Ost and Griffin are going to slow them down. We lost the turret."
"Be mindful not to push it." He watched the situation unfolding and decided to loop around south to cut off the Cataphract from getting to the command center. As he got a visual confirmation of the Ostsol being out of the fight, he panned to his left further to see the Thunderbolt standing over a prone 'Mech. Seeing the Awesome on the ground gave him a smile, and he focused fire into the hatchet-wielding 'Mech. It crumpled to the ground, going still.
"Everyone, just focus your targets. We should be good." He closed his channel, and licked his lips while glancing around. "Take them out. One at a time."
"Damnit, Deadeye, are you all right?" Adamant swore as he realized the Stalker was going to be much more of a problem than he anticipated. He saw the Griffin slide behind him and opted to ignore it for now; the lighter 'Mechs were here to take care of that nuisance.
"That laser turret." Deadeye grumbled, and fought to stand up. "It found a weak spot I think, I lost some engine shielding and the shrapnel damaged the gyro. I can hold it-"
"If you're going to tell me that, you had damn well better hold it! Not one more down. Sureshot! Take care of it." He felt a crackling bolt land between the shoulder blades of the Atlas, and grunted from the impact. Bones and Badboi were tearing apart the enemy Awesome, forcing it to the ground. Too bad, he'd really have a use for a second-
The digital voice spoke up inside the neurohelmet. "Warning, rear armor depleted."
"Shut up." He leveled the arms and let loose the Medium Lasers into the Awesome, both impacting in the side of the head and blowing it open. The flash-heated armor left a smoking scar, and it was clear from how the 'Mech now lay back the cockpit was gone as well. Forward, one foot in front of the other, the Stalker dead ahead. It was next on the list, Adamant thought grimly; too much firepower to leave alone.
Commander Pryde swore as the Atlas continued its inexorable march forward. Losing the Awesome was terrible, and now the northern defenders was cut down to just the Thunderbolt. Well, it should be capable of dealing with the problem, the Thud was a tough machine after all.
He moved the Warhammer to flank, starting to burn more armor off the back of the Atlas as it just kept advancing on the Stalker. It was lunacy, advancing with the rear armor that badly stripped. The Harbingers couldn't hope to win like this, could they?
"Commander, lost my weapons. Right side is shredded." The Griffin was staggering, trying to sprint to support the Thunderbolt. "Orders?"
"Stay with it, you can still kick em. I-" He glanced aside to notice the hatchet-wielding 'Mech and the smaller scout 'Mech having caused Dallas to fall down and shut off. The Atlas was facing him now, and the heavy autocannon on its hip opened up. It was surprising, at first, as the body of the Warhammer lurched and stumbled.
The neurohelmet rang with a shrill alarm as a voice started speaking. "Warning, armor breach. Warning, critical system damage." Pryde was about to wrench the Warhammer around as the next error message scrolled and he heard something start exploding under his feet. "Warning, ammunition explosion detected."
He didn't have time to scream.
Adamant rubbed at his writs, relaxing slightly as he saw the Warhammer's body split in half from ammunition cooking off. He really was glad this was over now, that last salvo of PPCs had destroyed the SRM fire control. It was over, wasn't it? "Deadeye, Sassy, report."
"Sassy." He heard her speaking. "I've got the command center locked down, and it doesn't look like the Griffin can do much with the damage done to it. What do you say, mercy or slaughter?"
He considered for a moment, then opened the channel. He took a moment to clear his head as he took stock of just what his sensors were picking up. "Pryde's Crucible, I'd like to speak to your commander and offer terms of surrender."
"Commander Pryde is dead. I'm Lieutenant Dallas." The voice came back, slightly distorted. "What are your terms?"
Dead? Had he been in that Warhammer, then? That would explain how he had been tearing through his targets. "It's simple. You folks take off, leave what's left of your base, and I don't kill every single one of you in retaliation for the attack earlier. I'll let you keep what's left of your 'Mechs, I haven't got a use for them." Not to mention he didn't have enough spare parts for both, and he sincerely doubted the Crucible had supplies enough either.
"Hold on-"
He slammed a hand at the comm unit and finally raised his voice. "No, you hold on! We weren't the aggressors who picked this fight, we're just the sons of bitches who finished it. If you're intent on being as stupid as your commander, I'll let you go talk to him about how you decided death was better than life." He heard silence, and the face on the static-filled screen seemed to be glowering at him. "Ten seconds. Then I order Badboi to open your cockpit with the hatchet and see what color filling it has."
"Fine. I accept these terms. Nobody else dies, yes?" At his nod, she let out a slow breath. "I'll take you at your word. I surrender Calderon Firebase to you, commander." She hesitated, and there was still a sullen note in her voice. "Well-fought."
"You too. Sad you had to lose." He didn't want them knowing how close it had come, if the Stalker hadn't decided to shut down it might have been able to take him out by trading itself for him. The Thunderbolt was still standing too, despite going three-on-one now. He keyed over the channel and spoke up. "Harbingers, keep an eye on our prisoners. If they make any aggressive moves, nobody leaves here alive. Understood?"
Sassy nodded, being the only one standing who still looked almost pristine. "Copy, boss. I'll get on it." She didn't sound happy, though, which wasn't a surprise. The price which had been paid was just too damn high, even if they won. But still, one enemy down. How many more remained was the next question.
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