Chapter Twenty-Six

The Wolverine Enclave

Wombat Ridge, Strana Mechty

Clan Space

24 October 2823

The fast-moving Kintaro fired both of its short-range missile packs at Trish Ebon’s Pulverizer, scoring solid hits with every warhead. She tried to lead the ’Mech slightly and waited for weapons tone—a lock! She hit the trigger on her particle projection cannon and slammed a shot into the right leg of the Smoke Jaguar. For a moment the Kintaro gimped—it looked as if it was going to topple, but it held its own. Damn these Jaguars—they are good.

It was not an understatement. Star Colonel Stanton Osis had proven himself a very skilled warrior. His forces had a slight numerical superiority and were using it to the best of their ability. Trish and her Wolverines had lost half of their combat effectiveness already, good warriors dead or captured. Osis had lost a Star of BattleMechs as well, but what he still had on the field was probably more than enough to do the job.

I cannot surrender. I am a Wolverine. I will not spend the rest of my days as a Smoke Jaguar. She saw a Flashman lumber up the ridge where she had opted to make a stand. The gray and black streak pattern was marred where earlier hits had damaged it. Trish opted to add to it. She fired her large lasers, slicing a nasty, smoking hole along the front of the ’Mech. The heat in her cockpit rose slowly but noticeably.

The Flashman was not amused. The Jaguar fired its three large lasers in retaliation. One went over her Pulverizer’s shoulder. The other two hit square in her shoulders. They did not leave long, torn armor plates, but punched in deep. Myomer muscles on the right arm gave way, dropping her Pulverizer’s arm slightly. She saw fellow Wolverine MechWarrior Thomlinson land from his jump jet flight down the ridge, putting his Guillotine between her and the Flashman.

“Thomlinson!” she said, moving up the hill to try and find an angle for her shot.

“Pull back, Star Captain. I will deal with these cats,” Thomlinson replied. She had known him for two years. Overconfidence was not something he ever demonstrated before. He believed he could win. But out of a small copse of trees at the bottom of the ridge, a Jaguar Exterminator emerged and cut loose with its long-range missiles. At the same time, the Flashman turned to face the new threat with a full salvo from its deadly array of medium lasers.

The lasers found their mark first. The medium-range weapons filled the air with emerald beams. One missed, searing the soil of Wombat Ridge. The others all found their marks, seeming to envelop the Exterminator. Thomlinson listed back, but held his ground. Trish moved uphill to line up the Flashman just as the long-range missiles wracked his already mangled ’Mech. The missiles erupted like little pustules on the Wolverine ’Mech, popping and spraying armor everywhere. Thomlinson dropped back onto the ridge line, falling to a sitting position. She was surprised he was still in the fight after the savaging he had taken.

Damn it, Franklin. You promised to come back and get me out of here. Now would be a good time. She fired her modified PPC at the Flashman at the same time that Thomlinson let loose with his own barrage of medium lasers. The attack concentrated on the upper portion of the Jaguar BattleMech. It stepped backwards down the ridge. At the same moment she saw a new threat, an undamaged Champion, come out of the trees. It fired…at Thomlinson.

His Guillotine had never been designed for this kind of abuse. The Exterminator fired at the same moment as the Champion. There was little hope of survival for Thomlinson. His half-sitting ’Mech tried to rise, attempted to get up. He could not. A pair of missed shots furrowed the ground around him. The rest devoured his Guillotine. She saw smoke, white curling deadly smoke, rise. Thomlinson had been just another Wolverine warrior, one that had done his duty. He had saved her. Now it had cost him his life.

Anger tore at her face. “All forces fall back to the top of the ridge,” she said. Smiling sarcastically, she muttered, “Perfect place for a last stand…”

The Smoke Jaguars came out in pursuit. The ridge was steep, rocks jutting out every so often made for difficult footing. Her three remaining BattleMechs kept firing at the slowed Jaguars as they backed up the hill. The Flashman went down from a PPC shot from a Stag II. It was of little consequence. We have nowhere to go. The back of the ridge was impassible, and she knew her enemies knew that. The Jags assumed a position near the fallen Guillotine, firing upward. Many of the shots missed, but those that found their mark moved each Wolverine closer to Thomlinson’s fate.

“We have nowhere to go, Star Captain Ebon,” her comm system signaled. It was Lexi…always pointing out the obvious.

“Then we have them where we want them,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Affirmative, sir,” Lexi replied.

“On my order, we execute a charge. I want to punch right through the Jaguars lines at a full speed. We can move down the ridge to the bottom and then break out for the plains.”

“We are with you, sir,” Carver’s desperate voice replied. “Give the word.”

She opened her mouth when suddenly the air between her unit and the Jaguars became filled with brilliant, blue light. The sounds was more like a cracking of lightning only a thousand times louder, even from within the cockpit of her ’Mech. The beam or beams was blinding, even with the dampers in the ferroglass cockpit. A second later another barrage appeared, lightning from the sky that devoured an acre at a time. She heard a scream on the broadband channel—not from one of her people. What is this? What is happening? Another few seconds and she would have been in that light. Light? No. Orbital bombardment. She smiled.

As suddenly as it hit, the barrage stopped. Everything was burned to carbon. The fallen form of Thomlinson’s BattleMech looked like a charred tree stump more than a war machine. The same could be said of the Flashman and two other Jaguar BattleMechs. The other Smoke Jaguars were falling back in a full retreat. Trish was stunned. What happened?

Her comm unit came to life. “This is the McKenna’s Pride to Wolverine force on Strana Mechty. DropShip is en route to extract you. Move out to the plains and prepare for immediate departure.” The voice was that of saKhan Franklin Hallis.

“McKenna’s Pride?” she replied stunned. Of all the ships, this one was one she had not expected. “You stole the general’s flagship? My God, Franklin, it is the Pride.”

Now it made sense. She had witnessed an orbital bombardment from the aging battleship that had been in orbit over Strana Mechty. Franklin must have overpowered the honor guard and seized the ship. The Clans frowned on the use of WarShips to fight honorable battles on the ground. Good thing we are no longer Clan.

“Stolen? Negative, Star Captain,” Hallis came back. “We overpowered the guard and are using it to cover your withdrawal. We are not taking the Pride, but leaving her here. I simply borrowed it for a little while.”

“This will not go over well with the Grand Council.”

There was a pause. “Then what I do next will go over with them even less well.”

Twelve Minutes Later…

The attack came without warning, raining down from the sky like bolts of lightning thrown by Zeus. The Widowmakers’ hall and the entire string of buildings tied to the construction of the new Grand Council Chamber erupted with a stunning blast. Everyone in the city below saw the explosion in Svoboda Zemylya Park. Rocks and sod rained down on Katyusha City, ornately carved and sculpted to exacting standards.

Each Clan maintained a hall of their own that tied to the site where the new Grand Council chambers were being built. For a moment, it was as if lightning had destroyed the complex. As the white-and-gray smoke lifted, it became clear that some buildings had been spared. Only the Widowmakers’ hall had taken a hit—and the Grand Council site itself. Then another brilliant blast. This time the Smoke Jaguars hall was taken down. A second later another blue-white burst on the Snow Raven hall. The Ghost Bear hall evaporated next, followed with the Jade Falcons’. As if to emphasize a point, another blast was sent into the rubble of the Widowmakers’ hall, cratering the site. A pyre of twisted black and gray smoke rose from the hole.

In orbit over Strana Mechty, aboard the McKenna’s Pride, saKhan Hallis ordered the bombardment to stop. By now everyone on the planet below knew something was wrong. This tomb, the shrine to Aleksandr Kerensky, had fired on the world it had always watched over. It was tempting to strike at the Clans’ production capabilities, but to do so would kill thousands of innocent workers. Khan McEvedy would not have wanted that. The damage was not military in nature, but was designed to have a psychological impact.

Word had reached him of the events on Circe, and just a few hours ago of a nuclear attack on Dehra Dun. Why the Snow Ravens had bombed their own capital city was lost on him, but it was obvious from what he knew that the Wolverines had nothing to do with the city’s destruction. However, both were being blamed on the Wolverines. Franklin did not believe the media, but at the same time knew what he believed was not important. The Wolverines would bear the blame for these assaults. He had tried to reach Khan McEvedy, but to no avail. She had been in Great Hope; which meant she was either dead from the blast, dead from the fighting, or unable to communicate for another reason.

I cannot let all of this fall apart…not now.

That left him, Franklin Hallis, as the sole leader of the Wolverines. It was a weight that only one man could have understood. The man lay in state before him. He would have to leave the WarShip, there was much to do. Forces on Lum and Marshall still had to be evacuated, now most likely under the guns of the enemy. Other Wolverine holdings had to be sabotaged so the other Clans would not benefit from seizing them. If Khan McEvedy was dead, it meant he was charged with the survival of the Wolverines. Even now shuttlecraft and fighters from the surface would be scrambling, daring to make a high speed run at the McKenna’s Pride. Let them waste resources…this ship has served its purpose for me today.

Franklin paused at the glass-topped coffin of the Great General and looked at his face. “Your son is an evil man, General. He has caused the deaths of thousands of innocents. Nicholas is selling my people out to simply hold onto his power. Forgive me General, but he will be made to pay. I am sorry, but you would do the same thing if you were in my shoes—I know it.”

He pivoted in mid-air and pushed away. In the pit of his stomach, he knew the battles of the Wolverine Clan had just started.