‘Geez, Sarge.’ called one of the Swords One's troopers. ‘It's a Wasp.Looks like one of ours. He's at a dead run. Waving his arms to beat the band.’
‘It's Bryant.’ Captain St. George cut in. ‘Harris, take Swords One out to meet him. Get him back to this position.’
‘Yes. sir! C'mon, Swords! We've got work to do!’
A twinkling of weapons fire on the left betrayed the previously invisible position of his company's left flank. The fire was answered by more sinister twinkling in the sky overhead. The ground rocked to missile and cannon fire from the Steiner fighters.
‘Hold your fire, everyone.’ There was steel in St George's tone. ‘The fighters are pinpointing us in this gloom by our weapons fire. The rain's reduced our heat signatures, so they're grasping at straws.’
‘Cap'n St George, Harris here. We're on our way back.’
‘Any casualties, Sergeant?’
‘Our Locustsslowed a bit, but he's not reporting any serious damage. We got off light. The damn fighters blew it wide.’
'When you get Bryant back here. I want you to take your lance and fall back. There should be a road about three klicks south of here. Fall back to that point unless you encounter our troops dug in and holding.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Sergeant McHaigh, you heard that?’
‘Aye, sir. You'll be bringing up the rear with Two, then, sir?’
‘Aye, yourself, McHaigh. Now fall back.’
The Captain could see the salient they had worked so hard to punch into the Lyran forces being squeezed like a tube of survival rations. He was becoming more and more uneasy about the fact that it was a mere unit protecting the regiment's rear.
The Waspstood directly in front of his Shadow Hawk.The trooper was bellowing a report over his onboard loud speaker. ‘Then they came in fighters, and I lost my radio to a near miss.’
‘Is that when you decided to disobey orders, and probe the enemy force, trooper?’ St. George cut in.
‘Well, sir, I could see them moving about a bit. They seemed content to hang back, so I loosed a few rounds. Then I shut down everything but leg servomotors to cut down the I.R. signature, and moved up under cover of the rain.’
‘Go on, Bryant What did your little sojourn net us?’
‘Yes, sir. What we've got up front there are Lyran regulars. At least one medium lance. That's what's been laying in the rocket fire on us until now. When I got close enough, though, I could see elements of an Assault Lance moving up. Over where one used to be was another medium lance, and a lot of light stuff. Recon, maybe.’ Selfconsciously, the trooper added, ‘I kinda got lost and ended up going a little sideways, or I wouldn't a been late, sir.’
'That's good enough for now, Bryant We'll talk more about this later.’ Captain St George paused, then added, ‘Join the Sergeant and get ready to fall back. And try not to get lost on the way, trooper.’
‘Sir? Yes, sir.’ The Waspmoved off into the rain.
‘McHaigh?’
‘Aye?’
‘We've got what looks like the elements of a Steiner battalion on the front and the left. The forces Lipescue and I ran into were all members of Hansen's Roughriders, a merc unit of at least battalion-strength. We're outnumbered at least four or six to one on this front We can't hold out against that and their air superiority. Take Bryant and get back to Harris at the road.’
There was a moment of silence while the unit's top Sergeant took the information under consideration. ‘Any word from Battalion. Force Commander Keshii?’
‘Sergeant, the only thing I'm getting from Battalion is a lot of static. The 131st is being probed all up and down the length of the salient.’ To himself, the Captain said, They've probably already run out on us. damn It‘It might be a good idea if you keep to the center of the corridor as you fall back. Narrow our front to about one klick and form up as two lances. Then hold up with one while the other falls back. Like our thrust out, only in reverse.’
‘And in miniature, sir. Don't worry. I'll hold the babes together, and we won't lose touch with you and Lippy.’ With that the Sergeant broke contact, gathered Bryant, and moved off.
St George switched to operational and tried to reach the unit that was, he fervently hoped, still holding the power plant.
‘Swords, calling Seguin's Strikers, come in. This is Cyrus St. George calling for Julian Sequin.’
‘What the Hell do you want. Academy boy? We're just a little too busy here for social calls.’
St George recognized the irritating whine of the mercenary Captain whose unit had been attached to the 33rd regiment for the duration of this assault. ‘Drop dead. Seguin. I need to know anything you can tell me about Hansen's Roughriders.’
‘What I'll tell you is that I'm taking my lads and getting out of there because we'll be too damn close to them as well. They are a regiment backed up by an air wing and assault units. Alone, they're a match for the 131st on its best day. Offense intended.’
It was worse than the Captain had figured. ‘The ones we blew up didn't seem that tough, Seguin.’
‘Just you wait and see—now that you've gone and made them mad.’ The merc Captain's tone had changed, though St. George could not identify what it was. ‘Did you call just to count your kills? If so, we're a little busy here, St. George.’
‘I’m out here at the end of the line. Seguin. Tell me the status of the 131st. What's the salient look like from there?’
‘What salient, boyo? You're the only intact unit still in there. All that's left are odd 'Mechs too slow to run or guys who didn't get the message. The rest have been pouring through here like there was no tomorrow. Which, according to Regimental, seems to be the case.’
‘Great,’ Captain St. George snarled. ‘Tell me one thing, you damned pirate. Will you and your rats hold the end of the sack open until we get there?’
There was a long silence before Captain Seguin's voice came back, all business. ‘How far out are you, St. George?’
Now to give him the bad news. ‘About 13 kilometers.’
‘Well, Academy boy, there are still some rats running out down the line, and that will keep the bag from closing on you further up. at least for a while. The merc Captain paused. ‘My lads and I are more than a match for any bunch of Academy boys, Steiners, or Mariks. We'll hold until you get here. Mind you, boyo. We stay until you come down the pipe. Till then, you're on your own.’
‘Seguin, if you're not there when I get there, I'll come looking for you. Got it?’
‘Sounds like fun, Academy boy.’
Something cut in on the mercenary's tactical band. St George couldn't hear what was said, but when Seguin picked up the ops link again, his voice was subdued.
‘You'd best hurry if you want to get your babes out of this mess in one piece, boyo.’ The merc sounded grim.
‘Roger. CaptainSeguin.’ St. George signed off.
‘Roger yourself, CaptainSt. George.’ To himself, the merc Captain said, And good luck. You're gonna need it!
St. George turned to Lipescue. ‘What's your LRM supply look like, Lippy?’
‘After the last twelve hours, I'm mighty low on all the consumables. SRMs are lowest one volley left, both launchers. LRMs. two volleys.’ The veteran didn't sound all that concerned, despite the fact that without his missiles, his Crusaderwas little better armed than a light 'Mech.
‘O.K., Lippy, now we wait. The Steiners should be coming in a few minutes.’
The two giant battle machines stood silently just at the edge of each other's vision. Over the com. the men inside listened to the sounds of Keshii's 131 st battalion coming apart at the seams, unable to withstand the force of superior air power and ever-increasing ground strength.
My god.St. George thought. Where are the Lyrans getting all this firepower?
‘Captain?’ It was Lipescue, on tactical.
‘Got something coming?’ St. George scanned the right side of the front, where he expected to see the leading edge of Hansen's Roughriders any second.