“Be ready,” Ruskoff had warned Daniel. The collapse of the Ijori line had looked imminent, despite Evan Kurst’s refusal to simply go down under scathing weapons fire. “Be ready to push forward.”
Daniel had only backed off under the Cavalry press under orders, saving his armor for the final assault that would cut out Ijori’s heart. More reinforcements had come up from the Capellan backfield, giving Mai Uhn Wa’s mobile HQ some protection, but not enough. Not against a Zeus and Daniel’s Tundra Wolf leading the final charge of Republic forces. If Mai Wa had any chance to worry the heavier BattleMechs, he would have to mass up a decent infantry screen…
No.
Turning from the waist, Daniel stared out through his ferroglass shield. He saw movement, counted a few indistinct shadows crawling over the ground, and was opening his mouth to warn the Legate when Fa Shih troopers rose from concealment and jetted out over the Suriwong Floods.
Daniel did not stop to think. He spent one last flight of missiles at Evan Kurst, then throttled up to his best speed, striding forward into the Cavalry’s heavy armor. Legate Ruskoff was in trouble, and Daniel had to act.
“Forward!” he ordered. “To the Legate’s aid!”
The trio of Regulator II’s pounded Daniel from both sides as he broke through their cordon, smashing Gauss slugs into the better armor of his flanks and his right leg. He stumbled forward under the hard shoves, but stayed on his feet. His ATM launcher pounded one Regulator, opening up its crew compartment so that his lasers could stab deadly energy down inside.
Another of the armored tanks drove into his path, and he kicked it aside, caving in one side of the sleek vehicle.
Then Evan Kurst’s Ti Ts’ang dropped out of the sky, lasers spiking hard, ruby energy into the Tundra Wolf’s face. Daniel’s vision swam with laser blindness, and he nearly lost his footing. Fortunately, the polarized ferroglass took most of the glare. He slowed, recovered, and blinked his vision clear.
In time to see Viktor Ruskoff fall.
No one was going to reach the Legate in time. Under the full fury of an infantry swarm, Ruskoff had seconds—heartbeats—before the Fa Shih cracked his cockpit and took him prisoner… or took his life. Anyone close enough had to go through Kurst’s Ti Ts’ang. At the least. More Ijori units pressed now, thrown forward by Mai Wa in an attempt to permanently sunder The Republic line.
“Right flank, curl inward!” Daniel ordered at once, taking local control. “Recover the Legate. Forward units press Ijori now!” A solid gut-punch might push some of the Ijori forces back, giving Daniel time to rescue Ruskoff. If Mai Wa was threatened—was taken—the battle might even be salvaged.
Too late. It was all too late. Only a few Republic units surged forward at his order to rescue Ruskoff. Fewer backed Daniel’s move toward the center of the fray. Most milled about uncertainly.
Then Evan Kurst stung at him again with lasers. Daniel slammed the medium-weight machine with everything he had at his disposal as he slashed across Evan’s path, missiles and lasers scouring armor and shaking the sixty-ton machine hard. As fast as his weapons cycled, he struck again, and again. Kurst went down under the barrage, but immediately began to struggle up again.
A pair of hoverbikes swung away from the Zeus, rallying to Daniel. One of them burst into flame and shredding metal when a Regulator II’s Gauss rifle gutted it. A JES tactical missile carrier also caught up with Daniel, to accompany him on the desperate run.
Daniel wanted to believe they might be throwing themselves forward because of him. Wanted to believe it, but would not let any more good men be wasted on his account.
Planting his right foot firmly, he managed one last scourge of lasers against a nearby Regulator. Then Daniel throttled up and twisted his controls to do an about-face launch into a full run, stepping into the middle of a Purifier squad converging on his position. Turning his back on the still struggling Ti Ts’ang, Daniel plunged into the oncoming mass of Ijori troops and surged forward, weapons blazing as fast as he could cycle them.
Daniel Peterson or Ezekiel Crow—he was a Knight of Liao now, and he was attacking!
The unconventional move caught Ijori off balance, and let him make several hundred meters before the first tank boxed him in. A Po II. A score of short-range missiles hammered across its length, scouring away armor, and it was then that Daniel noticed the Jessie sticking by him.
Crosshairs flashed red and gold as Daniel second-guessed his targeting system and pulled into several flights of missiles, ATMs and lasers. He left the Po II a smoking wreck.
Sensor alarms wailed for attention. A Gauss slug smashed into the back of one leg.
Two missiles tapped the back of his Tundra Wolf’s head.
The cockpit shook like a cement mixer, jerking Daniel about like a rag doll. He saw the ejection controls out of the corner of one eye, knew he could have his hands on them in an easy reach. No. More trading of weapons fire. More return pounding.
He plowed past the Po II, his mind set on the Praetorian mobile HQ. He knew Evan Kurst was behind him, throttling into pursuit, but he had a good lead. Without stopping he kicked in the side of a Marksman tank, and spent his lasers into a scattering of Fa Shih battlesuits.
More hammering, coming from all sides as House Ijori moved forward to contain him. Surviving Fa Shih leapt up and grabbed handholds where they could. Evan Kurst reached out at range with his lasers, but was too far behind him.
Warning lights and alarms fought for attention as he lost armor, shielding, his missile launcher and a few heat sinks. Temperature soared and his vision swam. Only the cooling vest’s maximum capacity kept him conscious now. Didn’t matter.
New target. Full salvo. A Joust rolled over in explosive flame.
Next. Full. VV1 Ranger.
Giggins APC.
Schmitt.
More frenetic fire, and one of his restraining straps tore free. He pressed himself into his seat by pressing both steering pedals to the floor and holding himself in. Ejection controls. No.
Somewhere along the way he’d lost the JES tactical carrier. He could no longer be certain when, or where. The HUD was a tangle of threat icons and his damage schematic showed his systems as more memory than fact. He put the finishing touches on the DI Schmitt. Stepped over it.
And a hard shove nearly sent him sprawling as Evan Kurst’s ax bit into his back, caving past armor and striking a deep cleft through his reactor shielding.
Sweat stung his eyes as Daniel Peterson hauled what was left of his BattleMech back around. He’d fought his way almost entirely through the House Ijori force. Vehicles lay scattered and ruined behind him. But right along that same path had come Evan Kurst in his Ti Ts’ang, followed by a number of hovercraft and infantry carriers.
Daniel levered out his right arm, lasers probing, but Evan beat it aside with the flat of his ax blade and then chopped down again. And again.
The titanium edge on the ax took his right arm off at the elbow, and opened up another deep chest wound. Laser fire and several Gauss slugs slammed into him at once, rocking him back several paces. Fusion-fed flames licked out of multiple rents in his armor, blackening the bottom edge of his cockpit shield.
He fed what few weapons he had left into the wall of onrushing forces. He couldn’t breathe.
His boots stuck to the floor as their soles began to melt.
More lasers. Flames licking higher. Throttling forward, Daniel Peterson made two steps before Kurst spent one last crushing blow against the Tundra Wolf and its reactor finally let go. Golden fire burst up through the plate decking and speared out of a dozen wounds fatal to his BattleMech.