Not even the Condor hovercraft could keep up with Raul with his Legionnaire at a full run. He turned and throttled up, moving out of the Blackhawk’s reach and trailing after the Schmitt. Reaching its side, he slowed back to a walk and paced the tracked vehicle south.
“This is Ortega. Tassa, where away? We’ve picked up some help, finally.”
“I heard.” Her response came back wreathed in static likely caused by the discharge of her own PPCs. “Middle Dales. No sign of reinforcements and—damn!—I can’t shake these two loose.” She faded from the air for a moment. “They broke us into three pieces. I held out as far north as I could, hoping you would rejoin. But if you’re still up by the foothills, you are a good twenty minutes away.”
Raul measured the distance in his mind. “Ten,” he promised her. Then he ordered the VV1 to blaze a trail for the Schmitt, both of the vehicles taking a roundabout path back toward the base. He throttled up. “I’m at a run and heading your way.”
“I have a bottle if you have glasses,” Tassa said, then cursed again and turned her attention back to the fight.
A lot could happen in ten minutes. In ten seconds, even, on a live battlefield. Raul stomped his way over the rolling Dales, his cockpit swaying dangerously far to each side as he pushed the Legionnaire harder than he should for the uneven terrain. Tassa checked on his progress every few minutes, helped guide him in. Raul smelled fuel and saw smoke before he ever found the battlefield, running up on a militia Scimitar overturned and burning. From there Tassa knew exactly where he was, and bent her battle toward him to help link up faster.
Tassa Kay had one of her two Condors, a Behemoth and pair of tactical Jessies left at her side when Raul found them. She would push at the Steel Wolf force, and then the pair of Pack Hunters pushed back. The thirty-ton BattleMechs each wielded a PPC and eight General Systems micro lasers. With a top speed of one hundred twenty kilometers per hour and the full energy array, Pack Hunters were designed to harry and pursue and eventually wear down the opposition. With Shandra scout vehicles and Hauberk infantry chasing around in their specially modified Maxim carriers, it was no wonder Tassa couldn’t shake her pursuers.
Raul’s arrival gave them something else to think about. Suddenly the weight seemed to shift into the Republic’s favor.
“Are you feeling sick or something?” Tassa asked him, pulling her Ryoken even with the Legionnaire. “Lay into one of them.”
Easier said than done. Even outmatched, getting a Pack Hunter to hold still long enough for a solid lock wasn’t easy. Also, “I only have about a dozen pulls left in my rotary,” Raul admitted.
“They don’t know that. And you still have lasers. Threaten them if you can’t hurt them! Chase down the left-most Hunter. I have the other.”
Although not in the chain of command, Raul defaulted this time to Tassa’s authority. She had the strongest ’Mech on the field and she had been involved in a cat-and-mouse game with these two Steel Wolves for the better part of the day. He spent more of his precious ammunition at the Pack Hunter she’d assigned him, tried to split it away from its partner.
The other ’Mech reminded him that it had teeth as it sliced a particle cannon across Raul’s left arm, blasting away armor and cutting into the myomer and mechanical joint. The Behemoth saved him further damage by putting a gauss slug just over the Pack Hunter’s shoulder, making the pilot think twice about getting too close.
Able to go one on one with the other enemy BattleMech, Tassa used her jump jets to grab a side-deflection shot. At the height of her arc, she laid into the Hunter with both PPCs. One carved a glassy trail into the ground behind it. Her second shot burned into the Hunter’s leg, spilling a ton of molten armor over the Dales.
Tassa dropped down in between two of the Maxims, staggered back toward Raul’s position with infantry missiles chasing after her, pockmarking her armor with ragged holes.
“Rotten, waddling lilliputaner-nadels!” It sounded German to Raul, and hardly complimentary. Her next few curses he couldn’t begin to place.
“If those were Elementals,” Raul admonished her, “you’d be ripped into shreds right now.”
“If those had been Elementals, I would have taken out the infantry carriers much—blazes!”
Tassa’s Ryoken disappeared from view as fiery explosions blossomed over her head and shoulders and the ground around her exploded in a series of unnatural geysers. Raul knew from recent experience what had caused that, and found the Blackhawk cresting a hill on their near left flank, launching missile spreads from short range.
“Damn Sandoval, you were supposed to hold him up.” He watched as Tassa limped out from underneath the cloud of smoke and debris, her Ryoken stripped down to a walking skeleton. “Jessies on the Hauberk battlesuits. Condor …Six,” he pulled its operations tag out of his HUD code, “distract the Shandras.”
Raul left the Behemoth to its own choice and threw his Legionnaire forward at the Pack Hunters, leaving the Blackhawk in Tassa’s hands. He’d had no time to check Tassa’s status or form any plan more complex than engage and overcome. All he knew was that allowing the Pack Hunters to link up side-by-side with the Blackhawk spelled a complete rout for the militia forces. Tassa’s Ryoken had the only weapons capable of putting the missile-capable ’Mech down quickly. She was either fit to take it, or they were both as good as dead.
Doubting that Tassa wasn’t good enough to cover his back was never an option.
Whatever the two Pack Hunters had expected with the arrival of their larger brethren, it certainly had not been a full-push offensive. Raul’s Legionnaire was just as fast as they were, and given a few second’s lead he covered ground in long strides to set himself between the Hunters and the ’Hawk. His lasers spat ruby arrows at the smaller machines. His rotary autocannon chewed down through his reserve bins as he peppered first one ’Mech with armor-piercing slugs, then the other.
The Behemoth added some misery of its own as it spread missiles from its twin Holly racks over the shoulders of one Hunter.
Tassa had stumbled up into a loping run, shaking off the assault with characteristic speed. Her PPCs stabbed out angrily once, and again. On the second salvo, her beams fused into a single, hard-hitting strike that rocked the Blackhawk back on its heels.
Raul’s Legionnaire shuddered as a PPC cut down through his left leg, slicing through myomer but missing any critical mechanisms. He emptied his rotary’s drum with one last, long pull. Then committed himself to a slow walk forward with lasers still flaring bright, bejeweled energy. He kept one eye on his rear-facing monitor the entire time.
Wading through the Blackhawk’s return fire, shrugging aside more missiles and hard-stabbing lasers, Tassa blasted two, red-tinged wounds across the ’Hawk’s chest and then hit it with the two Streak six-packs she’d held in reserve. A dozen of the wide-bodied missiles burst from their box launchers, drawing gray lines of corkscrewing smoke from her Ryoken to the Steel Wolf BattleMech.
Only two missiles missed, scraping by to either side of the Blackhawk’s head. Half of the rest burst into large fireballs against the ’Mech’s chest, some burning new damage deeper into the engine and gyro housing. A pair of missiles slammed into the bulbous cockpit, cracking ferroglass and no doubt shaking the warrior hard against his restraints.