Morgan's head came back up. "I accept what you have said, Uncle, because it makes some sense. If I cannot be with my unit destroying Maximilian Liao's 'Mechs, I might as well contribute to his sleepless nights." Straightening himself, he settled his face into a look of calm acceptance. "I stand ready, my Prince, to fulfill whatever role you choose for me. When the time comes for me to lead troops, I will not shrink from that duty, either. Whatever task you assign me, I promise to carry it out to success."
44
Sarna Commonality, Capellan Confederation
20 October 3028
A green light burned to life on the command console of Captain Andrew Redburn's Centurion.He stabbed it with a long, thick finger, but kept his voice low. "Centurionhere, go ahead."
Robert Craon's voice buzzed into Andrew's neurohelmet. "Fox Lance has readings indicating about a dozen Marauderscoming down the slot."
Andrew frowned. "Are you sure?"
Craon's tone convinced Andrew that Craon did not doubt the information. "We've measured the time differences between the vibration pickups with different seismic monitors. Factoring in the conductivity of the terrain, the estimate is solid. They're varying their footstep cadence, but the pilots are tired and are getting sloppy. We've got them."
Andrew nodded his head. "Good. Notify the other lances and then prepare to shut the back door. Have Archer and Demon Lances fire off their first volleys after my signal. Take it slow and don't sever your land-line with the lances until battle is joined."
"Roger. Just like we planned it."
Andrew nodded. "And, Robert, do not arm the mines until I give the command."
Craon's voice echoed his reservations from an earlier discussion. "I'm still uneasy about the number of mines we have. I'd have liked more."
Andrew shook his head. The Aragon Borderers were really reluctant to give anything to a "March recruit troop” like ours, but we’ll show them . . ."We make do with what we are given. Orders understood, Leftenant?"
"Roger, sir. Out."
Andrew smiled as he mentally estimated where the enemy 'Mechs had to be. Your raiding days are over, Major Xong.
Andrew punched a button on his command console, bringing his combat computer on line and filling his primary monitor with a display outlining the Centurion'sweapons systems. Good. Both the autocannon in the right arm and the LRM launcher in the chest are operational.Andrew glanced at the lower section of the monitor. And the torso mounted medium lasers fore and aft check out as well. Now if I could only get some targeting assist.
Andrew looked out through the Centurion'sbroad viewing canopy. Beyond it, he saw a warped landscape of reddish brown frozen lava flows and half-melted purple hillsides. Pale yellow vapors twisted from sulphurous geysers, rising through the thick, brown soup, belching out steam in fetid gouts.
Xong knew what he was doing when he brought the remnants of Freemont's Cuirassiers First Battalion into the Hellfire Mountains. The volcanoes and springs make this place too hot for infrared scans to be effective, and the sulphur vapors hamper radar and magscans. Makes targeting all guess and luck.
Andrew moved his Centuriondown a hillside toward the narrow valley running between jagged peaks. The mountains had been formed when whole sections of the planet's crust had thrust upward. Waiting for Xong's raiders, Andrew had spent hours studying the broad geological striations that raked the mountains.
Freemont's Cuirassiers had a single battalion defending Hunan when the second wave of the Davion invasion landed the Aragon Borderers on the world. Led by Major Sidney Xong, the Cuirassiers fought a hard series of battles against the Borderers, but could not defeat a whole regiment. Xong finally fled with the unit's survivors into the Hellfire Mountains. Traveling up and down the chain, the raiders struck at targets and harassed the Davion garrison.
Andrew moved into the narrow valley his command had nicknamed the "Slot." Because of you, Major, my men were pulled from R & R to spend a week waiting for you in this hellhole. It's time to get this over and done with. With your people running capturedMarauders, I don't expect this to be easy, but we 're prepared for you.
Under normal circumstances, Andrew would have considered the Delta company's mission something close to suicidal. Massing 75 tons, Marauderswere powerhouses. Each of the jutting claws on these birdlike 'Mechs packed a PPC and a medium laser. Augmenting that formidable weaponry, the Marauderalso had a torso-mounted auto-cannon. Aside from problems with overheating, the Marauderhad proved itself as one of the deadliest 'Mechs in the armies of the Successor States.
Intelligence sources estimate yourMarauders are all out of autocannon ammo. What's more, the heat in this place makes aMarauder less than effective, and we know your 'Mechs took some damage in the early fighting. I can only hope you've been hurt enough . . .
Down a slight grade from his position, through the swirling mist, Andrew saw the first dark, hunched silhouette drifting toward him. He extended the Centurion'sright arm toward it. With the touch of a button on the command console, Andrew flipped open the hatch coverings over the ten LRM launch tubes in his Centurion'schest.
He shifted his scanners over to Starlight. The light amplification system brightened the picture appreciably, giving him a better view of the shuffling, crablike Marauders. Fifty more meters and it's over.Andrew adjusted the joystick in his left hand, dropping a gold crosshairs on the lead 'Mech's low silhouette. Sulphur mist foils computer lock, but the valley there brackets theMarauders. If I miss one, I'll hit another.
The first Marauderpilot stopped short as he saw Andrew's Centurionstanding tall in the pass's narrowest point. As the Marauder'sright claw moved forward, Andrew punched the combat joystick's button. The Centuriontwisted slightly back to the left as the missiles launched themselves on jets of bright yellow fire.
Eight of the missiles corkscrewed through the vapors, exploding against the Marauder'sleft arm and leg. The blasts shivered armor from each limb, adding yet deeper scars to those already won in battle, but failed to destroy anything vital. The Marauderrecoiled with the impact, but Andrew knew well that the action had come from the pilot's reaction to the explosions instead of any problem with the deadly 'Mech.
Like an actor in some ancient holovid western drama, the Marauderraised its right claw to fire the PPC housed there, and Andrew reacted instantly. Almost without conscious thought, he swung the Centurion'sright arm into line with his foe. His right hand caressed the autocannon's firing button, triggering a burst even as the enemy's PPC coils glowed blue.
The autocannon's slugs shot down the PPC's muzzle as the awesome weapon gathered energy for its terrible beam. The projectiles shattered the magnetic coils that focused the particle beam, and freed the power vortex in a brilliant azure flare. Fire shot from the Marauder'swrist, peeling back armor and blasting through the titanomagnesium 'Mech bones. A half-second after the explosion's thundershot reached Andrew's Centurion,its violence shaking the massive war machine, the Marauder'sclaw fell smoking to the ground.