Evan’s forward probe hadn’t split The Republic force, they’d turned it. Legate Ruskoff wheeled around to throw everything at them, and Evan’s small company was forced far back from the main Capellan line. The Legate first thought they were the Dynasty Guard. Mai’s command vehicle unscrambled a few intercepts to that effect, including one broken transmission that the House Master played for Evan.
“Legate, I… these vehicles. That Tian-zong. Conservatory forces! Ijori… come out of Chang-an.”
Evan recognized the voice instantly. He’d never forget it. Daniel Peterson was fighting on the field!
The only ’Mech engaged near House Ijori’s Tian-zong was a Triarii-painted Tundra Wolf. Evan circled around on its position, weathering a storm of missiles and laserfire to challenge the Betrayer. His Ti Ts’ang’s heat-accelerated myomer allowed him to close, hacking large chunks of armor away from Peterson’s chest and side.
But the disgraced veteran was not without some support. A Principes armor company led forward by the on-planet Knight—Lady Eve Kincaid—came to Peterson’s rescue and drove back the Ijori forces. Her Mad Cat III savaged two of Evan’s Condors. A pack of hoverbikes peppered his Ti Ts’ang with laserfire, chasing Evan back toward safety.
Triarii and militia squads piled up to the west. The Knight and fallen Paladin held the north. Eva’s position looked desperate. Then fate intervened in the voice of an Armored Cavalry scout patrolling far to the northeast.
“The Dynasty Guard! They’re deploying out of the hills!”
More welcome words Evan had not heard. The Republic force got the news at nearly the same time, apparently, with Lady Kincaid splitting away for a hard run northwest. She drew several hovercraft with her.
Evan pulled his crosshairs over the Tundra Wolf, preparing another charge. He sparred against the Tundra Wolf’s heavier weapons, trying to hold Peterson’s attention as the Ijori Tian-zong slogged forward with a squad of Regulator II heavy tanks.
“All nearby units, this is Ijori-five.” Jenna! “Praetorian is under assault. We need backup. Home in on transponder three-eight-one.”
Tori Yngstrom moved up on his position. Her Tian-zong belted out Gauss slugs from each arm. “We can hold here, push them back toward the Dynasty Guard. Get to Shiao Mai!”
Evan was the logical choice, his Ti Ts’ang was the faster ’Mech. He had walked away from Peterson in Chang-an, and that had been one of the hardest decisions of his life. This time, there was no choice to make. His House Master needed him.
Evan pulled back, grabbing a Destroyer and two nearby Condors, as well as a loaded Maxim APC arriving from the south. “Three-eight-one,” he ordered his new ad hoc unit. On the command frequency, he broadcast, “Ijori-one, en route.”
Six kilometers struggling through marshes and muddy rivers cost Evan nearly ten minutes as he homed in on the mobile HQ’s directional beacon. He learned on the way that it was Ruskoff’s Zeus pushing forward to trap Mai Uhn Wa in an encirclement. Jenna opened a door, her ForestryMech dicing up a pair of Joust crawlers. The Praetorian escaped with armor and infantry assets to make rendezvous with Evan’s force.
Not soon enough. The Zeus followed and caught up with the fleeing command unit, called in artillery fire to pin it down. Evan listened in on the battlefield chatter coming from just ahead. He ran his Ti Ts’ang up a steep rise that thrust out of the swampy flatlands, cleared its summit and then leapt far out over the Suriwong Floods.
Jenna’s ForestryMech was nowhere to be seen. Mai Wa’s Praetorian struggled along a spine of rock and clay, protected by a Locust, some Armored Cavalry, and two wheeled APCs dumping out Purifier troopers and Ijori irregulars.
Still airborne, Evan identified a Zeus and a Pack Hunter leading forward a mixed bag of Republic armor and infantry. More threat icons gathered on his HUD’s horizon.
He came down into a shallow river, splashing up great sheets of water and sinking the BattleMech’s feet meters into soft, grabbing clay. Stuck. His arrival threw back the Zeus, which turned away reluctantly like a snarling beast deprived of its prey. One PPC snaked manmade lightning across the stirred Floods, ripping a long, jagged gash up the side of Evan’s Ti Ts’ang. Gray-green heat sink coolant spurted out of the wound like arterial blood.
A squad of Triarii Scimitars swept in to harass him with missiles. Fire blossomed along both legs as Evan worked his feet loose from the muck. He walked his Ti Ts’ang up onto a rocky bar and set himself in a wide-legged stance. His hovercraft and the HQ’s remaining defenders flocked to Evan’s side, driving back the Scimitars.
“Wedge formation,” Evan ordered, buying time for his House Master. Artillery fire continued to hammer down behind them, walking in closer with every round. “Cavalry, double up on my left. Ijori, thin ranks and envelop on my right.”
A risky call. Evan had little more than a reinforced company to work with. McCarron’s soldiers made for a good anchor on his western flank, but thinning the rest to the east was chancy. They weren’t veterans. They were hardly more than cadets.
They certainly were not an elite Warrior House. Not yet.
“Ijori-five. Jenna. Can you rendezvous?”
Silence answered him and a push by the Zeus occupied him for a moment. Fire and shrapnel swept the center of his line in alternating waves. Evan’s BattleMech dropped to one knee under the barrage, but it stood again.
“Jenna?”
“Evan.” Mai answered him. “Ijori-five is down.”
“Confirm!” Evan snapped at his Master, letting his own feelings get in the way. Not now. Not like this.
“It is confirmed.” Mai showed no more warmth. “We’ve lost a lot of good people already. No news on casualties, or survivors.”
The news cost Evan several seconds, wondering if Jenna might still be alive, thinking about the things he had not gotten a chance to say to her yet. The battle did not wait for him. Greasy smoke from a burning APC hid the Ijori irregulars who moved up quickly, rocket launchers across their shoulders. A pair of Triarii Stingrays slashed across the battlefield, catching the Locust in a broadside salvo of lasers, and a lance of Mk II Scimitars scooted in under that cover and slashed at the Armored Cavalry with lasers and missiles.
One of the Po II heavy tanks turned and snap fired, taking the nose off one Scimitar with a well-placed Gauss slug. The hovercraft dipped nose down into a thin gruel of mud, caught in the Suriwong’s grip, end-overed and then splashed down on its side.
It wasn’t Terrence McCarron, but the shot was certainly worthy of the veteran. Evan glanced at his HUD, checking ID tags. “Cav-six. Can we call on your commander?”
Again it was Mai Uhn Wa who answered, overriding from the command vehicle. “Terrence McCarron is holding, barely, on the eastern edge of the Floods.”
So there was just him. Hahn dead. David finished. Mark Lo separated by the press of battle and Jenna left behind. The Dynasty Guard pressed forward, but slowly, slowly. And now, no Cavalry to the rescue.
Artillery tore a spit off his island, pinging and slamming rocks into the Ti Ts’ang’s lower legs. Evan checked his heat curve and spent half of his lasers at a Demon that tried to edge forward around the base of the same rising slope he’d come over only minutes before. A few vehicles crawled up from the Capellan backfield, but there wouldn’t be much else. Except Legate Ruskoff. He would be coming.