Grayson had been spotted. Above him, the pilot reaching for his sidearm.
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Grayson climbed faster, scrambling out onto the narrow framework of the scaffolding walkway that ran across the bulge of the 'Mech's chest, just below the cockpit. The Mech Warrior had his pistol out, aimed at Grayson's head.
"Drop that gun!" The man's voice was shrill, and a bit unsteady.
Grayson dropped his rifle, which clattered on the scaffolding. Then, he began unfastening the buckles that held his powerpack straps in place.
"This is restricted up here, fella," the warrior said. "No one comes up here but Techs and..."
The last buckle slipped open, and Grayson brought the heavy laser backpack up and around in front of him like a shield. He rushed the MechWarrior, and the scaffolding jumped and rattled under his boots. The pilot fired once, his shot missing both shield and Grayson as he fell backward into the cockpit
Grayson threw the bulky power unit, catching the pilot in the chest. Then Grayson was on top of him, wrestling for the gun as his feet scrabbled for a firm grip on the slick surface of the 'Mech's upper chest armor. The two men grappled for a moment, the powerpack with the rifle dangling from its cable getting between them in the scramble. The pilot stood up, his pistol still in hand. Grayson lashed out with his foot, caught the MechWarrior on the knee, then watched as the man toppled over and fell backward with a shriek and the clatter of metal scaffolding.
The stammer of an assault rifle echoed through the Bay, and bullets whined and cracked past Grayson's head. He stooped and retrieved his rifle, checked the power, then snapped off three quick shots at the soldiers advancing toward the ladder. The laser fired with a warm hum. The bolts of coherent light were invisible, but two of the soldiers below crumpled to the deck with their uniforms smoldering.
As other troops sought cover, Grayson ducked back into the Shadow Hawk's cockpit. He found the handle and pulled the canopy down into place, then gave it a twist to seat and seal it
The canopy itself was heavily layered with reflective materials that transformed it into a one-way mirror, an added safety factor that prevented the pilot from being blinded if the cockpit was hit by an enemy laser beam. It darkened the cavern outside somewhat, but Grayson could still make out the scurrying shapes of Combine soldiers.
Quickly now, he told himself. His hands reached out to flick on row upon row of switches along the consoles to the right and left of his chair. Instrument readings showed his power plant active and full power available, his weapons loaded, armed, and linked to the controls.
Grayson pulled the neural impulse helmet down on its trailing tangle of wires and feed cables and made it snug against his head. With power on, he cautiously opened the feedback test circuit. First, there was the familiar wash of vertigo as circuits tuned to unfamiliar brainwave patterns fed dissonant patterns back through the nerves of his own inner ears. He found the vernier knobs that adjusted the helmet's tuning, working them back and forth as the dizziness ebbed. Out-of-step traceries on an oscilloscope resolved into a single standing wave, and he knew the Shadow Hawkwas now set to his alpha wave patterns.
He gave the board a last scan. Green... green... all green. His left hand took the conning stick, his right the weapons grip. His foot kicked off the leg locks that held the Hawkbraced against the scaffolding, and the machine took a step forward. The gantry scaffolding exploded outward in a cloud of spinning shards and fragments. The 'Mech took another step, dragging twisted strands of aluminum alloy across the deck with a screech of tortured metal.
The Bay doors were grinding shut. Grayson twisted around, searching. Sure enough, the control booth was there, the stairway back in place. He could see an astech inside the booth, frantically speaking into a microphone. Grayson brought the Hawk'sright arm up, bringing the 6 cm laser mounted to the forearm into line. His right hand tightened on the trigger. White fire burst from the booth, which spouted a stream of glass splinters and shattered metal. Half the booth twisted away and fell to the deck, trailing black smoke and a tangle of shredded braces and metal from the stairway.
Still partly open, the Bay door froze in place.
Grayson turned and strode for the opening. Men scattered before his feet, most throwing away their guns and fleeing without looking back, a pitiful few standing their ground to blaze away at the thundering 'Mech with assault rifles and pistols. Grayson ignored them, increasing speed as he moved away from the Castle. The laser and missile batteries mounted around the wall packed more than enough firepower to bring the Shadow Hawkdown. His only hope was that the weapons were not yet manned and ready.
He didn't dare cut in the 'Mech's jump jets for the descent from the parade field. After piloting the Locust,the Shadow Hawkfelt wildly different — huge, massive, and clumsy, as though he were attempting to walk with lead weights strapped to hands and feet and torso. It would not take long to get used to the heavier 'Mech, but Grayson was not about to risk any tricky maneuvers until he had the machine thoroughly broken to harness.
The terrain below the parade ground was broken and rough, gouged by erosion gullies and made treacherous by loose stones and gravel spills. Grayson found he had begun his descent further north than he'd intended. To the south, toward the lights of Sarghad, the slope was gentler, flat enough for hovercraft and solid enough to support running 'Mechs.
He opened his combat frequencies, and got a rasp of static and a rapidly speaking voice in his helmet phones.
". . . freighter DropShip, demanding immediate clearance!"
"DropShip Alpha, this is tower. We have an emergency on the field and must deny your request for clearance."
"You idiots, it's the emergency I'm trying to avoid! Look... Captain Yorunabi, ISF has given me orders to launch immediately. Do you read me?"
Grayson strained to catch the words, which were fuzzed by static. As these were electronic transmissions and not voices, he couldn't tell if the speaker was Tor or not. But he knew Lori would not have launched the attack on the port unless she had had word from Captain tor that the DropShip was secure.
When they'd made their plans, they'd not known the DropShip's launch schedule, and could only guess from the preparations around its base that it was ready to lift. DropShips were not loaded with their liquid hydrogen reaction mass until just before launch. The H had an unfortunate tendency to diffuse through unshielded tanks if it were left sitting for more than a very few hours. It was generally cheaper and more efficient to store the fuel elsewhere, and load it aboard just before burn time.
That was how they knew the DropShip was nearing launch time when they'd seen the astech teams fueling it, but they hadn't known how close it was. Rather than have Tor and his squad risk detection by sitting in a secretly captured DropShip for hours — possibly a standard day or more — the attack was planned to give the freighter Captain an excuse to launch at once.
The DropShip pilot's frantic request was according to plan, but Grayson wondered about the presence of an ISF Captain aboard. Was that Tor's bluff? Or had something gone terribly wrong?
"Alpha, this is the tower. You have clearance for immediate launch."