When they saw all their guests served with pieces of cake, Hanse and Melissa stood. Justin glanced at his plate to see what world this one represented, but the paper doily beneath the cake totally obscured the world's identity.
Melissa lifted a small piece of the cake toward Hanse. "Husband, in honor of our marriage, in addition to this cake, I give to you a regiment of BattleMechs and the means to support them in perpetuity." Though her eyes glinted mischievously, Melissa fed the piece of cake to Hanse gently.
Hanse smiled when he was done, every bit of him exuding the wily confidence that had earned him the nickname of "the Fox." His clear voice filled the hall with happy sounds, but filled Justin with uneasy terror. Something is wrong. Hanse, what are you doing ?
"I thank you for the gift, beloved," began the Prince of the Federated Suns. He lifted a piece of cake in his right hand. "Wife, in honor of our marriage, in addition to this morsel, I give you a vast prize." He slipped the doily from his dessert plate and held the dish aloft in his one hand for all to see. "Here, my love," he said, looking at Melissa with laughing eyes and a triumphant expression. "I give you the Capellan Confederation!"
Book IV
Remise
41
St. Andre
Sarna Commonality, Capellan Confederation
20 August 3028
A missile exploding against the DropShip's hull shot static through the auxiliary monitor's picture of the Dropmaster. The woman turned from the camera, then looked back at Andrew Redburn. "No sweat, Redburn. They just flamed that bird." She glanced at the time at the bottom of the screen. "Mark, one minute until drop. We're hot, so your children better have their brakes on."
Redburn nodded. "Roger." He reached out and switched his radio over to the tactical frequency. "Fifty seconds to drop, campers. This is the real thing. Archer and Demon Lances will harass the targets. Bullseye, Cat, and Fox Lances, go in. Hit your jets when clear of the egg. Remember, we'll be facing 'Mechs lots bigger than we are, but the others in the First Battalion have them occupied. We're the sting. Make it good."
Redburn gave his couch harness an extra tug to pull it tight over his cooling vest. Sending an assault lance of light 'Mechs against Assault 'Mechs? The intelligence on theseGoliaths better be right or thisFirestarter they've got me in will be my coffin.Stinging sweat dripped down into eyes as he waited for the seconds to tick off the digital display on his monitor.
Redburn felt two more explosions rock the OverlordClass DropShip Firewalker. I hope like hell this baby makes it to the drop zone.Above him, he heard the deep roar of the ship's auto-cannons as they spat clouds of metal back out at the Liao fighters swarming around the ship. He switched his radio back to speak with the Dropmaster and caught the piece of a transmission heading for her.
"Roger, Firewalker.We copy. Intercept in fifteen seconds. You sow the dragon's teeth and my Aerowing will keep the gnats off your hide."
The Dropmaster smiled. "Glad to have you with us, Falcon Leader. Torch One, drop in ten seconds, nine . . ."
Punching two buttons on his command console, Andrew patched the countdown through to his command, First Battalion's Delta company. "Because you and your people appear on no official rosters, Captain Redburn, you'll be our little surprise," Colonel Stone had remarked as the Firewalkerhurled insystem from the sun's nadir jump point. "The first and second battalions will draw out Cochraine's Goliaths,and you'll goose them."
A series of sharp metallic rasps and clanks thundered through the Firestarter'scockpit as the drophatches irised open. Redburn's stomach lurched as the 35-ton Firestarterfell from the DropShip. The familiar thrum of engines and other comforting DropShip sounds suddenly vanished into the windy quiet of a drop.
Sensory input from a thousand sources flooded into Redburn's cockpit. Sorting through it, he ignored the fear that had built up while waiting for the drop. His brown eyes flashed on the altimeter, then growled, "Low drop, Delta. Burn hard! Now!"Following his own command, Redburn pushed hard on his foot pedals, igniting the jump jets on the Firestarter'sback. He eased up on the left pedal for half a second, letting the right jet twist him toward the battlefield.
My God, it's a hellground,thought Redburn as he surveyed the landscape of frozen red desert. The wide, virtually featureless plain stretched out as far as the eye could see in all directions, except where the thick, black smoke of burning 'Mechs cut off his view. This place is a desert because it gets so little rainfall during the year, but this high up means it stays cold.He glanced at his external thermometer. Zero degrees Celsius. Damned cold!
Opposite where his command had jetted to the ground, the Davion Light Guards' First Battalion was arrayed in a staggered formation to engage the Liao Battalion at a distance. Long-range missile exchanges had pockmarked the landscape with cratered reminders of poor marksmanship. Burning 'Mechs of various sizes and allegiances, or scraps thereof, decorated the battlefield as reminders of war-machine efficacy.
Redburn chewed his lip, thinking that something was very wrong here. Our lines are pushed too far back!"Eagle, how's your vantage point?"
Leftenant Craon's voice crackled with nervousness. "Not so good. I don't see Second Battalion."
Redburn swallowed hard. "Neither do I." He studied the tactical display on his auxiliary monitor. It showed elements he identified as First Battalion withdrawing toward some low hill formations to the south. First Battalion's speed will beat that of theGoliaths, but running keeps our 'Mechs at theGoliath 's optimum range. Most of the First Battalion's 'Mechs can't fight at that range. Where the hell is Second Battalion ?
Archie St. Agnan's voice cut into Redburn's neurohelmet. "My sensors have picked up Colonel Stone's identifier still with our troops. Wait! I have a transmission from him ..."
Andrew licked his dry lips. "Patch it through."
Static crackled and popped loudly, half obscuring the faint transmission. "Delta, pull out. Second Battalion aborted landing. Liao air cover is too heavy. The Goliathswill eat up your recruits ..."
That's Stone, all right.Andrew keyed his throat mike. "Did you all get that?"
Drew Montbard replied strongly. "We copied, Captain. I vote we go in."
"This isn't a democracy, Drew." Andrew summoned a technical readout on the GoliathAssault 'Mech to his primary monitor. Two LRM launchers, but those four-legged monsters should be out of missiles by now. That leaves them their particle projection cannons. If we get in close enough, those won't be worth spit, either. We're at doublestrength for a company.
"Archie," Andrew said. "Don't acknowledge the transmission. We never got it. Ground 'em now, troops! Land in that wash over to the south. Hit top speed, use the wash for cover, and come in from behind. If they want to court-martial us for disobeying orders, first they'll have to let us win this fight, won't they?"