NEAR TIBSHELF

BLUE MOUNTAINS

GILLINGHAM

FEDERATED SUNS

15:11, 07 JUNE 3044

“Nibs, flank right and advance across that ridge, Buff go left through the trees and see if you can sneak up on them, I’ll run up through the middle and grab their attention – let’s see if we can bag ourselves some brigands.”

After quick affirmatives, Elise watched as Ronnie opened the throttle and her Locust’s IFF signature began to accelerate to ludicrous speeds, kicking up puffs of snow, towards the cluster of tagged icons at the far end of this tributary valley. She did the same with her Clint, the heavier machine feeling more resistance as it tried to reach running speed. Hernandez, occupying the other arm of their chevron formation, peeled away and almost immediately disappeared between the stout trunks of the old growth forest, his slender machine handling the obstacles well enough.

Elise wasn’t sure what she thought of the lad, or he of her. As far as she could tell, he had never seen real combat before being volunteered to join the relief force from Harlow’s Landing, and as he tended to be quiet shy and reserved she had no idea how he would handle himself. Everyone had spent the first couple of days consolidating their forces and making repairs, the stream of airlifted supplies a welcome relief, even if the lack of a real repair bay prevented them from getting their machines back to one hundred percent. It had been a difficult time for Elise, getting back in the cockpit, but the new routine helped her to focus.

Still, it was nice to have armour in the green again and reaction material topped up to full.

Since then, Ronnie’s lance had been sent out – along with more static pickets of infantry – into the valleys closer to Tibshelf to see what the pirates were doing, maybe note some outlying targets for the heavier lances to take out, or do some damage themselves if they felt they would be able to risk it. 

After three days of patrols, they finally had their opportunity. 

A lance of savagely-decorated pirate vehicles had decided to try their hand at braving the more rugged terrain this far out, one or two of their number apparently getting bogged down in the deep snow. 

If they had used the hover vehicles Elise had seen from a distance a couple of days ago, they would have been fine, but it looked like they were being overcautious in the presence of rough terrain and were unfortunately paying for that mistake.

Her expert eye cast over the readout generated by the specialist recon sensors in Ronnie’s machine, getting an idea of what to be expected as she pushed on her pedals and leaped roaring up onto the ridge, fighting with her misaligned gyro for a moment on landing. There were a couple of Skulkers, one of which was definitely stuck, crew flitting around it as they tried to dig it out, and while the light scout tanks wouldn’t pose much of a threat to any of  them, it was the heavier Vedette and Striker behind them that would be an issue. Both of those could match Elise for range, and in the Striker’s case potentially exceed it for that and damage. 

Those would be the primary targets, though for now they were a little distracted.

Like a hound amongst hens, Ronnie’s Locust circled, darted and dived, throwing the enemy into chaos. The heavier tanks' primary weapons struggled to target her at close range while the gunners for the Skulkers’ lasers just couldn’t keep up with her speed, emerald beams flashing-boiling snow into misty clouds that billowed around the battlefield, further adding to the confusion. 

Now would probably be a good time to join in, Elise mused, wondering where Hernandez had gotten to. 

Still, she raised her gun arm. None of the enemy had moved yet so there would be no better opportunity to get involved. She sighted her reticle over the Striker, her Clint’s Sloane 220 working to compensating for her shifts and feeding back information about distance and estimated wind speed. It drifted slightly as a veil of steam obscured the target, but Elise was more than skilled enough to correct it back, confirming the target and pulling the trigger.

Her shoulder jerked with the recoil as the clap of her AC/5 firing echoed throughout the valley, the shot striking true and rocking the Striker as it blew armour plates off of its left flank.

Elise muttered a curse. She had been aiming for the LRM, which immediately turned her way and unleashed a volley of missiles in her direction, accompanied by a shot from the Vedette’s own autocannon. It was exactly the same make as the one she had just shot with, though without the same targeting systems.

“Whoops!” she exclaimed as she burst into a frantic jump, explosions rippling along the ridge she had just vacated. At the apex of her arc, jets cut and vibrations settled, she snapped off another shot into the group of enemies, one that fatally ruptured one of the stuck Skulker’s wheels. It really wasn’t going anywhere now.

Making sure to fire her jumpers again before shattering her legs on the rocks below, Elise began moving parallel to the enemy, frustrated by the lack of progress across the rough terrain, even without deep snow to slow her down. The enemy was moving now, careful so as not to get as stuck as their comrade, though enough to throw off her aim. More explosions rippled around her, two of the missiles finding purchase on her fist arm in a jarring couple of hits.

Where the hell is– she began to think, only for the question to be answered before she had even finished.

Taking full advantage of the distraction, Hernandez’ Commando burst from the treeline, pounding at full speed towards the enemy scouts. He had good nerve, waiting until the last possible moment before firing his weapons, though his inexperience showed in his choice of target. Short-ranged missiles and a bright laser beam struck the more mobile Skulker with a perfect hit rate, tearing apart the armour along that side and presumably hitting the engine when it came to a belching, shuddering stop.

The Commando was noticeably slower now and Elise could imagine the sheer amount of heat that a strike like that would have generated. Even if it might recover soon, it would still leave it at a disadvantage, one the enemy were seeking to exploit as they turned their shorter-ranged weapons in Hernandez’ direction. Machine gun rounds from the Vedette sparked off its chest and a laser from the immoble Skulker turned most of the armour on one leg to glowing slag. If the Striker hadn’t been focusing on Elise, it would have caused a lot of damage with its SRM.

Another shot from her took away some more armour and kept it interested, while a couple of fly-by kicks from Ronnie drew the Skulker’s attention.

At times like these, Elise really missed her grandfather’s Victor. Its large-calibre Pontiac 100 didn’t have anywhere near the range of the Clint’s Armstrong J11 but it would have stripped small fry like this to the bone in a single shot.

Alas, sometimes a girl has to make do.

She stopped behind the mound of an ancient landslide, using the pile of boulders for cover, stopping and sighting. Most of the steam had cleared now, so she aligned her gun at the Striker once more and took a shot, barking a laugh as it finally hit the launcher. Her shell must have hit one of the missiles as it was preparing to be launched because the effect was catastrophic, setting off a rippling chain reaction of explosions that tore the turret apart, unfortunately spreading upwards rather than downwards and sparing the vehicle. Though not destroyed, it was now definitely toothless.

Comms opened from the Locust, consisting of nothing but a few seconds of Ronnie cackling, underscored by the guttural vocals of whatever she was listening to. Once she had found her stride her command style, much like the woman herself, had turned out to be rather informal. That was the equivalent of effusive praise from anyone else.

Elise switched targets to the Vedette as a shot pulverised some armour on her chest, rattling her teeth and causing her to curse her laxity. Boasting tracks rather than wheels it was coping better with the snow than the others, a factor it was using to try and reverse back down the valley, putting as much distance as it could between it and its assailants. She leaped her Clint forwards, clearing the rocks in a single bound while Hernandez fired his arm weapons at the stricken Skulker, foregoing his SRM6 to keep his heat under control. Inexperienced he may be, but he was apparently also a quick learner.

With Ronnie assisting him, that just left Elise to deal with the Vedette.

It was weaving erratically, trying to avoid obstacles and Elise’s fire both, the dark spec on its turret of a human being’s head poking out to call directions. As far as she remembered, the thing’s rear was just as armoured as its front, so they were being needlessly complicated about it. A shot from its autocannon passed beneath her as she jumped again, carefully tracking it with her own AC/5, instinctually calculating her and its transversal velocity from midair. 

She fired, stripping a quarter-tonne of armour from the turret in a cloud of shrapnel, forcing the tank to come to an erratic halt. Whether she managed to hit the commander or not, the hatch now closed, shielding the gunner from any further blows.

CRUNCH.

So absorbed had she been with her target, she had forgotten to arrest her fall, and even with the blanket of snow on the ground her Clint hit it hard. Her brain rattled in her skull, her teeth clapped together, and she tasted blood. Warning lights flashed petulantly at her as the actuators managed to absorb the impact without shattering, even if a couple of armour plates dislodged from the impact. She staggered, slid, and righted herself, swearing angrily the entire time.

The Vedette crew, finally remembering their vehicle’s capabilities, turned the tank on its axis and began withdrawing with the driver facing forwards, the turret swinging around to try and get Elise back in its sights. She paused, taking advantage of her new stable platform, however unintended it had been, to aim. 

Three hundred metres down-range, wind to the front, estimated velocity fifty-two kph, transversal at ten…

She fired, her shell sailing down the valley and catching the tank in the joint where turret met hull. There was a very brief moment where it seemed like nothing happened before the entire vehicle burst apart in a welter of fire and metal as the ammunition bin cooked off. A cloud of mist gathered around the vehicle’s death-site, mingling with the column of dirty black smoke billowing up into the sky.

Taking a shuddering breath, Elise looked around, seeing the other vehicles were finally dealt with, their surviving crews on top of or beside their machines, hands over their heads.

“Good job team!” Ronnie nearly shouted over her music. “I’m going to call in a pick-up for the prisoners! We’ll hang around until then but if anyone else comes looking then we make ourselves scarce!”

“Affirmative,” was all Elise said in response, slumping back into her chair. There was no need for anything else: it’s what she would have ordered anyway.

Cracking the knuckles on her shaking hands, she took a moment to close her eyes.

It had been her first engagement since their last attack on the town and she had just thrown herself in without thinking about it. Without the added pressure of command she had been allowed to just lock in and go, pushing aside all other concerns while she focussed on the hunt.

The circumstances were hardly ideal, and neither was how she had handled it, but with no doubt about it, she had done so on her own terms.

 

NORTH OF TIBSHELF

BLUE MOUNTAINS

GILLINGHAM

FEDERATED SUNS

17:24, 07 JUNE 3044

It was dark when the recon lance found themselves back in the hidden valley. Over the past few days the place had been transformed into a nearly-functioning military camp, a couple of supply runs from the Arrow Town garrison’s Karnovs bringing amenities such as more utility tents, camp furniture, and – heavens above – actual camp latrines. Quality of life was exquisite compared to what they had previously been forced to endure, although every day brought them closer to discovery and retribution. While the valley was incredibly defensible, it was also a dead end, and the next people that came across them would probably not be so friendly.

Elise parked up the Clint, ran through the shut down sequence, and disengaged her neurohelmet before pulling on the cold weather gear stashed in her cockpit and gingerly descended the rope ladder. Every step was agony on her bad leg and when she made it to the ground it almost buckled under her weight. Pulling a face and hoping no-one saw, she managed to force herself to stand up straight.

After so long of being idle, getting back in the cockpit for so many long days in a row was seriously inflaming the old injury. None of the usual stretches she did seemed to help and going to beg for some painkillers was out of the question because… because of very good reasons she didn’t want to think about.

“Elise!” 

She closed her eyes for a moment, forced as much of the pain inwards as possible, then turned to regard her diminutive sergeant. Thankfully, external lights were kept to a minimum to help avoid detection, hopefully helping to conceal her issues too. 

“Your leg hurting you again…?” Ronnie asked worriedly.

Oh for the love of…

“I’m fine,” Elise lied.

“Hey, come on, don’t do that,” the younger woman chided. “I watched you get down from up there and it wasn’t fun to watch, probably only slightly more fun than actually going through it yourself!”

Command had been good for Ronnie. It had allowed her to grow in confidence as a MechWarrior and a person, becoming more sure in her interactions with others. Much to Elise’s current annoyance.

“I’m… I’ll be fine,” Elise pressed.

“Uh-huh,” Ronnie replied, deadpan. “As your friend, I’m telling you to get sorted out because I don’t want you to be hurting… As your sergeant I’m ordering you to get sorted out because I don’t want your injury to affect your performance and put the lance in danger.”

Elise stared at her for a moment in the gloom. She really had gotten confident.

“Fine, alright,” she replied sulkily.

“Fine, alright, what?”

“Fine, alright, Sergeant.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ronnie chirped brightly. “Join us in the command tent when you’re done and make sure to say hi to Anne from me while you’re there.”

Before Elise could bite back, she was off towards the main camp, linking up with Hernandez who had been waiting just out of earshot. 

She steeled herself with a breath of frigid air, trudged her way over to the dedicated medical tent – another perk brought over by their new friends – and lingered in front of the entrance flap for a full minute before she plucked up the courage to make her way inside.

The warmth was nice at least, hitting her in the face and doing its best to keep out the bitter winter that plagued them, and she blinked away the relative brightness of the lights as she found herself in the “waiting room” – a few fold-out stools in the area before it was partitioned to become the “ward”. There were still no dedicated MASH facilities but anyone serious enough to need such would either be stable enough to get airlifted out to Arrow Town or… it wouldn’t be an issue for long.

“Hang on I’ll be with you in a s–,” Anne emerged from the other side of the partition, scribbling something in a notebook, stopping dead when she saw who had walked into her tent. “Oh! Elise.”

“I, uh…” Elise cleared her throat. “My, uh, leg hurts.”

Anne’s face shifted, becoming more business-like.

“Must be about to fall off if you came here,” she nodded, pointing over at a chair. Elise obeyed and sat down, relaxing slightly when she could stretch out the offending limb.

“Trauma or exacerbation?” Anne asked.

“Exacerbation.”

“How long for?”

“Uhh…”

“Elise.”

“About three… days….”

“Elise!” Anne gave her a stern look then bustled away, coming back with two small plastic bottles. She held up one, “Paracetamol; take two every four hours until the bottle runs out.” She held up the other, “Codeine; if the paracetamol hasn’t helped enough after the first hour, take one of these, same again if you get breakthrough pain in the future, but not more than one every four hours. If you’re still needing them after three days, come see me or Nas, alright?”

Elise nodded.

Anne scrutinised her a moment before handing the bottles over. “Any other injuries?”

“Bit my tongue,” Elise admitted. “Made it bleed.”

“Does it still hurt?” Anne asked.

“Not really.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Stick it out,” Anne ordered.

Elise frowned but compiled while the nurse shone a pen torch at it.

“You’ll be fine,” Anne told her.

Elise put her tongue away and nodded, pocketing her new stash of pills. A moment passed and she lingered in the chair, not quite managing to look at Anne.

“Is there anything else?” the other woman asked. Her voice was softer now, maybe even a touch hopeful.

She opened her mouth for a moment and all the things said and unsaid bore down on her, crashing about her mind and making it hard to get the words she desperately wanted to use. Instead she responded with a lame “Ronnie says hi…” and hurried away before she could make a greater fool of herself.

A brief stretch of cold and she was back in the warm again, finding herself in the command tent along with Ronnie, the Harlow’s lieutenants, Everett, and Walters.

“Team leaders only,” Hornbuckle snapped immediately at her entering.

“She needs to be here,” Walters countered. “I need her experience for this discussion.”

“And remind me what experience that is, eh?” the lieutenant folded his arms and scowled at Elise suspiciously.

The corner of her mouth twitched. She had been waiting to pull this particular card, and after her last encounter she was in dire need of some catharsis. An almost-imperceptible nod from Walters gave her the permission she needed.

“New Avalon Institute of Science, College of Military Science officer track,” she uncurled fingers as she rattled off points. “Five years commissioned officer in the AFFS.” This last one came with a self-deprecating smirk. “Three years as a Powerman operator.”

Hornbuckle’s frown deepened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” When no-one jumped in with a punchline he continued. “What unit?”

“Third FedCom RCT.”

“Action?”

“Skirmishes, in thirty-four, thirty-six, and thirty-seven, full action in thirty-nine.”

“Where?”

“Sadalbari.” Elise forced her face to remain stony and unmoving, even in the face of the memories that name evoked.

Hornbuckle grunted and stroked his chin. “And what the bloody hell are you doing over this side of the ‘Sphere?”

“Fancied a change of scenery,” Elise replied flatly.

“Fair enough,” he said, looking at her curiously but motioning to Walters to carry on.

“As you well know, we’ve redoubled our reconnaissance efforts over the past few days,” they began, nodding gratefully towards Ronnie and Elise and gesturing towards the annotated map on the table before them. “As such we have compiled a list of potential outlying targets for heavy strikes, both to thin their numbers and attempt to gauge the level of any potential response.” They paused, making sure their words were sinking in before continuing. “Once we have done that we will build on the momentum to push for the prize.”

Backs straightened and eyes widened around the gathering as the implications of what they were saying sank in.

“The day after tomorrow,” Walters announced. “We are going to commit to a final all-out attack on the town.”