| The Wanderers. Part III: Separation Anxiety |
| By: Flocco Wessos |
| The stage had been set, now the only thing left were the
performer. Nuclear Inferno had threatened Flocco Wessos' blooded honor.
This was threat not taken lightly by any MechWarrior. In return, Flocco
challenged NI to a fight to the death. Rage and rebellious anger flowed
threw his veins, the very substance that kept him from reaching the
breaking point. The breaking point would drive Flocco mad, making him a
senseless murderer, one day he knew he would reach it. If he did not succeed
in defeating NI, he would reach it; failure was the worst fate he could
receive. Hours before the battle he prepared, putting on his personal uniform, a cleaner suit in terms of wear and tear. Yet, it was soiled by with his blood. He could still remember that day, the day that made him want to trample over his opponents. An Ultra AutoCannon 2 hit his cockpit of his first 'Mech, shrapnel hitting his left arm. Though he healed and before that, day had seen defeats on the battlefield, the realization of failure, the feel of hot metal sticking in his warm flesh. He was raised to be a MechWarrior and that would be his goal, to become the best he could be. To bring live up to the level of honor set by his bloodline. Three hours before the battle, he started up his personal variant of the Summoner, revised from the one Compromise shared with him. Armed with eight Streak SRMs, it had ever since he revised it assured him of success against opponents up to fifteen tons heavier than him. Those recruits that brought there own 'Mechs had died, and salvage was taken, using five AMS he had managed to find he equipped it to his Summoner. This kept of so called "missile boats" from laying a finger on him, the only possible way missiles would hit him was if 60 LRMs went dead on towards him, then only ten of them would hit. After the fusion engine was started up, he headed to what came to be known as the "Circle of Equals." Where trials were won and lost by many a MechWarrior. Sitting in his designated spot for those three remaining hours. From the techniques taught by his great friend Compromise, he closed his eyes and remembered fighting NI for the first time. He had a photographic memory and began using it fully. He can still see the angles that the PPCs were flying from their source. The delays he used between weapon reloads. He remembered that NI did not group his weapons; he link fired them. He stood still in place in order to achieve missile lock. Everything he remembered he would be able to use. He was meditating, visualizing the battle to come. Three hours would pass quickly in this state, on the edge of consciousness. Compromise had taught him a deadly and useful skill. As if he predicted, three hours passed by painfully fast. When Flocco came to from his meditated state, he saw the Circle of Equals surrounded by spectators and his fellow comrades. To them, nothing more than a fight to the death, to Flocco it was more, much more. Late as always, Flocco spotted a 'Mech on the horizon, the sky cloudy and about to rain. The light level was low, making it difficult to identify the chassis of the 'Mech. It was NI, for sure, he knew that much, but the battle would be determined by what 'Mech he brought. Finally NI came intp ranged; sensors identified as an Orion. Five tons heavier than his 'Mech. The Orion would be carrying a LB 10-X or an UAC 10. That was easy to tell from barrel seen on its right arm. Nuclear Inferno arrived in the Circle of Equals. By standard trial procedures they both would need to be seven hundred fifty meters away from each other and not fire until the other moved. Fossil would announce the engage command, soon after each understood the rules. Each gave the acknowledgement or the rules. The battle was ready to commence. They stood still, staring each other down like dogs before a fight. Fossil let out the go signal to engage. Flocco ran flanking maneuvers. NI ran at a tight angle. The seventy plus ton 'Mechs' feet splashed in the mud, mud splattered the 'Mechs' ankles and lower legs. It became dark as night, the clouds covering everything in the sky. The clouds thick, rain came pouring down on the 'Mechs, making for a wonderful sight when lightning stroked. Clatters of thunder shattered the onlookers eardrums. This setting had been perfect for a battle. The Orion was closing in on the Summoner faster than what was calculated by Flocco. He had to react quickly. Flocco hit his jump jets, got missile lock and fired his salvos away. A flash of UAC ammo ran right in front of the Summoner's cockpit, scaring the crap about of him. His radar showed that most of the Streaks missed, creating craters in the ground big enough to swallow a 'Mech whole. Debris from the crater hit the Orion, blinding his right side. The Summoner hit the ground from his jump almost having a gyro overload from the unstable ground. Partially blind, the Orion fired off everything he had. Four Medium Lasers pierced the near black day like the lightning flashing around them. Two of them managed to hit the Summoner in the back of his left leg. Flocco hit is jump jets again, this time to turn around, the Orion was standing still. Partial target lock, he initiated his alpha strike. A Narc and thirty-two Streaks flew down on him. He saw the Orion up at him; it fired off its UAC 10. The Salvos from each 'Mech hit at almost the exact time. Ten huge UAC rounds hit his Summoner's leg; he heard a huge explosion. A deafening explosion rocked the entire battlefield. Flocco fell straight to the ground. He hit his gyros. Nothing, his systems were incomprehensible. The environment quiet; the only sound was the lightning and the rain. He couldn't even hear the spectators. NI was not firing upon him. Flocco thought that the missiles never hit the Orion. He may have been wrong, he never saw any impact. 'Well,' he thought, 'this is it, I am dead, I lay here waiting for my death.' He closed his eyes, he wanted his death to be as painless as possible. He hailed over his Comm to anyone, needing to see if NI would finish him. He couldn't see anything; his 'Mech fell cockpit first into the ground. He estimated there was only one, maybe one and a half at most, meters of space between the cockpit and the ground. Half of that was water from the heavy rain. Waiting for over five minutes for his death, he couldn't stand it, he decided he would get out and see why NI was not attacking him. Reaching over, Flocco unlocked the cockpit hatch. The cold air rushed into the cockpit, where Flocco was dangling in his seat held only by his restraints. Reaching to one shoulder at a time, he unclipped the couplings. The second coupling, he fell out. Splashing in face first into the water, he now would crawl out from the cramped space. Breathing heavily, Flocco looked up for his death carrier. He would meet a painful death. 'Maybe a UAC round or a burning hot laser would mutilate my body.' a terrified Flocco thought. He saw nothing, seeing no fifteen and a half meter 'Mech around. Where was he? Where was he hiding? Suddenly, the spectators cheered uncontrollably, they ran into the Circle of Equals like a crazed mob. They ran towards Flocco, they had seen him climb out of his crippled 'Mech. Why were they doing this? Why! Flocco climbed onto the top of his 'Mech, first onto the arm, then to the back, to the highest position on the behemoth. To the far right he saw something, a hunk of metal, possibly a 'Mech. The mob was getting closer, only a minute at most until they arrived. Flocco ran towards the 'Mech, arriving slightly before the spectators got to him. Covered with rain and mud was NI's 'Mech, he could see that much. The Orion laid on its back. Flocco scaled the 'Mech's foot, walking up its leg. Complete oblivious to the crowd now around him and the 'Mech, he continued striding to its cockpit. Each cautious step he took, he thought that it would be nearly impossible to take him down in so few shots. The torso he stepped on had some minor damage, but none too severe. Closing his eyes as he neared the top of the 'Mech, he knew what would be coming. Charcoal black smoke damage covered a good-sized area. Flocco took a step into the fresh powder; still warm it went into the air. Flocco stopped, tilted his head up, he opened his eyes. His face expressionless, he slowly tilted his head back down upon the Orion. The antennas graciously scrolled by his eyes; then something was missing. Mangled metal twisting and tearing, the area where the cockpit would be was gone. Farther down was a seat; at least some of the cockpit was still there. He noticed something, something worse than anything he had ever seen before. In the command couch NI in part, no longer whole. NI's complete right side was gone, as was that side of the cockpit. All over, the remainder of the cockpit was NI's flesh and cold blood. A blinking light showed itself, in the dead center of the cockpit, was a NARC beacon lodged in place of NI's vile chest. NI's head and shoulders completely gone. A reminder to the horrors of war. On a lone piece of scrap metal in the proximity of the Orion was a shred of Nuclear Inferno's uniform, with the letters DNA. Covered by rain and mud of that day, it would be the tombstone of a forgotten leader. Out of the crowd came his comrades. Fossil and Mizik congratulated him for his success. Compromise came up behind him; he tapped on his shoulder, he mumbled to him, "We have to talk later." Flocco would almost completely ignore the crowd around him. He walked to the nearest transport and went back to the facility. Inside the facility was an odd cool, remarkably quiet. He headed towards his quarters; Compromise would be able to find him there. Flocco sat on the bed, watching the door, waiting for Compromise. Little time passed before Compromise knocked and came in. Flocco gave the first hail; Compromise returned the hail and sat down at the desk chair. Flocco inquired, "So, what did you want to speak to me about?" "Well, I do not think I will be able to go on with this unit. You have become a great friend; we have fought many battles together. It is just that this unit has become too unstable for me. I have my old unit to go back to fight with. Sorry to tell you this, but I must do this." Flocco had completely unexpected this. Compromise now would say the last thing to Flocco before he left on the next jumpship off the planet, "BeHails." Compromise swiftly got up and left the quarters. * * * Flocco let out a huge sigh, hiding the sorrow he felt for his lost comrade of many months. After their greatest victory, the sugar was taken with the salt. He couldn't really blame him; the stench of these unfamiliar quarters was not home to him. Maybe nothing really was. Had he been so ignorant to the notions that Compromise gave to him throughout their ordeal? If Flocco knew of Compromise impending leave, then he must have accepted it as was. The rain soaked windows of Compromise's old quarters gave a view of the outside world as dropships were taking off. Compromise was sure to be on one of them soon enough. The door creaked open as a familiar face came in. Fossil standing there with a vague expression on his face. His hair was still darkened and drenched from the cold rain. The expression slowly changing as if he wanted to say something but did not know what to say. Flocco would find it hard to blame him for being speechless. Their spiteful leader had fallen prey to their wrath and for good cause. However, knowing what to do next would be a different story. Compromise had probably seen situations like this get out of hand and that could have been a reason for his exit. The room sat silent as Fossil bobbed his head down. The short silence was broken by Fossil's garbled voice, "What now? I already know the obvious, so do not tell me that. I need to know the truth. What can we really do now? And I thought I should let you know, the thirty-so people that still stay here are wanting to know the answer too." He finally gathered the energy to bring his head back up and straighten his posture. All he saw was Flocco sitting there on Compromise's military issue bed. The room was empty; just had it been when Compromise lived in it. The storm outside was getting more violent. "First off, Compromise should be the rightful leader and he is gone. Second, I may want the position, but I really doubt I could lead a large or even medium sized unit. I don't think everyone can stay with us." Flocco paused. Fossils still standing there, a mere few feet away watching the fate unfold. "In addition, I would like to know what we are fighting for. I am certain of my Clan origin, but unknowing of which Clan. My code tells me that we MechWarriors are above everyone else. Normal citizens become are second-class around us. With this unit, I do not know what I am fighting for. I have no reason to fight. The invasion is taking place as we speak. I want to be a part of it." "Then why don't we join in?" "We do not have the proper resources, nor man power, nor reason to attack anyone." "We can lay that blame unto NI, now can't we?" Fossil gave a lighthearted laugh. * * * Later as the storm went on to die out, night fell, and all was quiet. Flocco lay on his quarter's bed. He was stiff with the stress of the day. Exhausted, the strains of battle and its results left him motionless. All that there was left to do was to think. He was there to contemplate his next move. The atmosphere was cold, though the climate control was operational; it could only change temperatures. Flocco slowly sat up, his arms around his knees. He thought to himself, "Where am I? What part of the universe am I in?" A few steps away were his answer. A holographic console was cleverly hidden in the room, but was easily found upon closer examination. He forced himself off the bed and into the comfortable chair that was nearest the console. With a flick of a switch the console's holographic screen lit up and its cooling fans hummed. He quickly typed in the command to bring up a hole-map of the universe. The circular map flickered above the projector, it flashed unstably, but still comprehendible. The map showed each Inner Sphere House, their planets different key colors. The borders were like walls, separating the great houses. To the edge of the map, was white border. White represented the Clan Invasion; Kerensky's own. The Clans had put a dent into the Inner Sphere to make their presence known to all. A small flashing dot donated where the planet on which Flocco was on, right next to the Clan Border. This area was not completely claimed by the Inner Sphere or the Clans. In this space, anyone with enough money could make a 'Mech regiment and become involved with the Great War. Flocco entered the identification codes of the jumpship, which was transporting Compromise. After a few seconds, a moving dot appeared on the map. The dot was moving from the Inner Sphere, probably to one of his old units. It would take a few more jumps until Compromise arrived at his destination. Flocco would not do anything until Compromise arrived wherever he was going. He would just have to pray ComStar allow the information to be hyperpulse transmitted back to the border. The holograph let off a low amplitude glow as it shut down. Flocco slouched deeper into the chair, closing his eyes as he did. He would take a few days break and then decide what to tell the anxious remaining members of DNA. Sleep was overcoming him as he stood up and threw himself onto the bed. The coming sleep he would have dreams of his victory over NI. Each dream cycle he would subconsciously make an alternate ending. * * * Compromise despised the war. It involved too many civilians. For century upon century, mankind has fought to move combat as far away from civilization as possible. Mankind went back on its word in a profound very many times. When war involved civilians, it meant that young civilians would want the glory, lust, and greed that war brought to them. Compromise knew war should not be left to the civilian, the populace, but to the elite, the MechWarriors. For MechWarriors accepted death, knew he was coming for them at every blast of an AutoCannon or every launched salvo of a LRM. Civilians on the other hand, feared death, did not want him. Their fear has always lead to failure in Compromise's eyes. "I am on my own now, again, " he whispered to himself. The technologically advanced jumpship showed the bleak of space through a different, less subdued way. Stars rushed by in this twenty-six light year jump. Clan space was where he was headed, more specifically, the border. The most violent place in the known universe excluding Terra itself. That was indeed, what the Clans were after Terra. Their goal was to have StarLeague restored the original, and not a halfassed attempt as done by the Inner Sphere. The old ways of the Ares Conventions restored, but until then, the Clans would fight to conquer. The Inner Sphere, until then, deserved no such honor. Space, another word for emptiness, but far from it. Space is filled with life and death, beginnings and ends. Stars collapsed and great Inner Sphere Houses collapsed. Not to long ago, the Clans came back to restore the original Star League and bring true honor back to the universe that the humanity had forgotten. His role to was to pilot his 'Mech with precision. This time he would go back to piloting alone. No one to guard his back. His reasons for fighting were his own and strangely vague to himself. "Two hours until arrival on the Clan border, " the captain stated as they left the jump. With two hours left Compromise began skimming through his codex, looking over all entries he had made during his stay with DNA. Within it were complete profiles of each MechWarriors' social status, personal logs, and fighting ability. The fighting ability entries were the longest of each MechWarriors' profile. Their maneuvering, weapons, and techniques were all dully noted. Listen within these profiles were such MechWarriors as Fossil, Mizik, Vargas, NI, Flocco Wessos, Dark Night, Raids, Sniper, and DeathMaster. All except two were nicknames which they gave themselves or given by fellow wings. * * * Compromise put on the bulky neurohelmet over his head and shoulders. He stated his name and activation code to the computer. The fusion reactor started up, the feeling familiar. He felt whole in his Mad Cat. The joystick fits like a glove on his hand. Throwing on his cooling jacket he began off the dropship onto the war ravaged jungle world. He let out a sigh and pushed the throttle to full. He stomped through jungle after jungle on his way. He waded through river after river until finally coming to two complexes that credited themselves to the ancient wonders of Terra: Pyramids. Slowing his Mad Cat down to a crawl, he inched his way to the entrance. Leaving his Mad Cat crouched; he climbed out onto its ladder. His boots clanking against the cold metal. A slight drizzle and heavy cloud cover was always present on this planet. Final rung; he jumped down onto the soaked grass. He entered the building. The building familiar to him, the people in it were familiar, but he paid none to them and continued walking. Two double doors at the end of a long hallway showed themselves. Lined with the native tropical plants, he reached the end of the hallway and into the room. "My tag is Compromise. I am here to report for duty for HBA," He said with a stern voice. A voice ruptured the darkness of the room, "Ah, Compromise, welcome back, did things go sour?" "No sir, the leader was killed by one of his own. I did not want to take sides." He paused briefly, " How are things here?" "It is hard to say. The Clans and Inner Sphere are fighting heavily on the border. Moreover, we are in the middle of it. Though we are able to defend ourselves against small lances, we will not be able to against a larger force. Many of our MechWarriors have died in battle against either side. We can use all the help we can get. If you would like to come back to HBA, I can give you an assignment as soon as possible." "Affirmative, sir." Compromise gave a gesture of gratitude and left. * * * Helicopters and 'Mechs alike roared their engines outside the complex. Compromise was off to his first assignment since he came back just a few weeks ago. He opened his NAV screen; four navigational points were entered into it for this mission. First navigational point laid on a ridge, most likely a defensive position for which they would set up their mobile field base. Compromise liked going into battle with a wing, but none of his fellow HBA members who he winged with was still around. They had either died or deserted the unit. Wanting to know who they were fighting Compromise opened his Comm Port and talked into the neurohelmet's microphone, "Just whom are we fighting? I know an Inner Sphere lance and Clanners, but I must know their denomination before engaging." His inquisitive mind needed to know. "We are fighting the Draconis Combine, some small start up groups who are most likely mercs, and we are not sure of the Clan," the man's voice shaking with the fear of death and battle. He was green, too new, fresh out of the cadet school. Things must have become bad while he was gone for only eight months. Still a puny cadet put in a small FireMoth. Compromise could tell that simply through the cadet's voice it would probably be his last battle. Compromise punched up his long-range sensors. With BAP installed, they would reach a good kilometer and a half. On the sensors he saw blue dots scattered everywhere, moving in every direction, all ready for battle. The tranquil color of blue, in all BattleMechs' and military systems represented their allies. The hulking 'Mech with its synthetic myomer muscles moved forward, putting its throttle to seventy percent. It would take the enemies roughly ten minutes to arrive; it would take his Mad Cat seven for himself to arrive at his navigational point. The lake and pyramid complexes quickly left his rear view and were replaced with foliage of the jungle as his 'Mech began to run off. Five minutes had passed, and maneuvering threw the heavy jungle was becoming harder. Luckily there was a clearing up ahead, the place were the battle would take place. * * * Eight minutes have passed. Just two short minutes before the fighting would begin. It was calm all around; the sky; the jungle; all was calm. Red dots appeared on the sensors. Four, five, nine, there numbers were growing fast. Looking up at the sky, one could see a few dropships raining from the heavens as Aerotech fighters fought over head. The infantry were the first to go in APCs followed by heavy tanks and light support 'Mechs. Being infantry was one of those horrible ways to die. Little protection, such as a flak jacket kept you from machine gun fire or an enemies laser. SRMs from the light 'Mechs destroyed clusters of infantry. Then the 'Mechs turned their attention towards each other. Small caliber AutoCannon fire flew randomly; some hitting their target; some going wide. Body parts became strewed across the damp landscape. Proving how fragile infantry was. A normal skirmish thus far. No need for heavier 'Mechs to interfere. Not planning to go anywhere, Compromise crouched his Mad Cat on the peak of the ridge. Now he had time to survey tactics employed by both sides. He zoomed in his targeting reticule on one side, HBA, on the other one of those start-up units. Their tactics were plain in his eyes. From his sensors in the corner of his left eye, he saw more flashes of red dots. Looking through the think glass of his Mad Cat's cockpit, he saw it. Dropships breaking through the clouds in two places. One dropship came in from the north and one to the east. Their fierce engines slowing themselves for a landing. Instinctively Compromise reared his Mad Cat up. He was in for a battle. From one dropship came five 'Mechs from the other, six. Without warning from the north came a Gauss Rifle bolt; it went wide. Twisting his torso full right and pushing his throttle up with his left hand, he began his pursuit to the origin of the shot. The skirmish was still going on below the ridge infantry were still being torn to shreds in the shroud of battle. Strikingly abnormal for a 'Mech to fire off a shot and not identify themselves beforehand. Thus, one side needed to do it. The Comm Port open to all channels, "All forces identify yourselves." "We are the Draconis Combine. We gave you a warning shot. " Compromise slowed to a stop. The Combine was here, just like predicted. Still, both the forces down below the ridge and to the east had not identified themselves. The Combine's slice of the Inner Sphere was being beaten into by the Clan Invasion; they had reason to be here. The unidentified forces had no right to be on the planet. He would just have to fight them off himself. Rules of engagement had to be established with the Combine before hand. "Draconis Combine forces, we as HBA have no quarrel with you. Please move on." "We will not. Our goal is to rid this planet, formally of our possession, of all outside influence." No choice now, Compromise would have to engage them. He radioed in and asked for assistance. It would take awhile before anymore would come. He started up his throttle again. He reconfigured his weapons grouping for the battle conditions. First grouping now consisted of both of his ER PPCs. Second grouping now assigned all four of his SSRM six shots. He needed to make this battle quick. He rushed into battle at an angle to throw them off concentration. "Missile lock detected!" his computer shouted in its feminine voice. His foot landed on a foot pedal hard, turning him hard left in an attempt to avoid the volley. He was still over eight hundred meters away leaving LRMs the only possible volley that could reach this far. His throttle now eighty kph. Now the LRMs could not hit him with his piloting skill. He jigged back right towards the lance of Combine 'Mechs. Mostly medium 'Mechs. Two Catapults, a Vulture, Kit Fox, and two Jenner IIc's. Twisting and pulling his joystick to get his reticule over a Jenner. Clear shot. The crackling of his PPCs lit up the terrain bright blue as it made its way to the lance. The quickly dispersed but the Kit Fox got in the way allowing one of the PPC shots a clear shot at the thirty ton 'Mechs shoulder knocking its arm clear off. More of luck shot. Now five hundred meters away, laser fire was coming in from the entire Combine. He was now surrounded. He needed to take pot shots at the opposing lance. The heat from the PPC blasts was overwhelming and in return, he had to waste some coolant on flushing it. The 'Mech in front of him now was the Vulture. It fired its Gauss Rifle. It hit a missile rack disabling it. He was now down to two SSRM 6 shots. He alpha striked at the Vulture hitting its leg. Armor went flying in all directions and the Vulture fell. Heat peaked up into the red. He had no choice but to override the emergency shut down and take the core breach chance. The lasers and machine gun fire was pelting him from all sides. He had to take the smaller 'Mechs out now. His left hand pulled the throttle back into reverse. Within a few seconds, both Jenners were in his sights. Setting up his PPCs to link fire, he shot of at the Jenners. First Jenner, the PPC flew at its cockpit. Flames erupted from it and its now useless body fell into the muddy grass. He pulled hard of the joystick to get the other Jenner. Before it was too late, he realized how close he was from exploding. He flushed his coolant to disperse the heat. The cockpit became hotter than hell itself. The Jenner came into view, achieving a missile lock he fired his remaining PPC and both SSRMs. The PPC missed and hit the ground, throwing sparks into the air. The SSRMs arched around and hit its backside as it tried to avoid them. The last Jenner fell. Suddenly from behind came LRM volleys and a Gauss shot. He had forgotten about the other 'Mechs. They slammed into his back and legs sending him flying forward into the ground. One more shot like that and he would be done for. A Mad Cat can take a beating, but it will not keep going from a beating by four 'Mechs. The Kit Fox fired its remaining weapons a Pulse Laser and ER Medium Laser. Even a scout 'Mech like a Kit Fox could take down a crippled Mad Cat. He hit his controls to try to correct to gyro overload. No prevail at all. The fall shorted out most of his systems. He could still feel the remaining Combine warriors pelting him with all ranges of weapons. His face was drenched in sweat from the heat. He picked up his arms and struggled to get his neurohelmet off. Successfully he did and he threw it down. "Manual controls online!" Compromise yelled, the computer recognized the commands and all sensors went offline and a light red glow lit up the cockpit. Without his neurohelmet, he would have to work overtime. The neurohelmet had kept the BattleMech's balance by use of the pilot's own inner ear. Compromise jerked the joystick back, kicked both foot pedals, and put the 'Mech into full reverse. After a few failed attempts, the Mad Cat corrected itself and the view of the wet ground was replaced by two Catapults. He charged at them. With his throttle hand now free, he punched in commands on a keyboard. The joystick, now slightly unresponsive took some time to bring the reticule over the Catapult on the right. He breathed deeply and slammed on alpha strike. The reticule was over the torso but all of his weapons hit its leg. Its leg went flying and the 'Mech fell on its back. He now knew were to aim. Without his HUD, he could not tell the condition of his armor or his heat. He would have to feel for it. The rain was heavier now and was able to dissipate some heat. The 'Mechs glimmered on the battlefield and was reminiscent of the battle of NI and Wessos. A massive thud shook him. Like a drunk man without balance the 'Mech went tumbling side to side. He glanced left; his arm was gone. In its place, a fiery explosion with mangled metal flying everywhere. Myomer fibers hanged from the former appendage. Amazingly he was able to correct his tumbling and turned forty degrees to the origin of the blast. Sure enough the vulture. The joystick becoming even more responsive he moved it to the upper right of the 'Mech. The missiles flew out of the shoulder pod. Under manual control, they would fly straight as an arrow. Only five missiles hit the Vulture in its leg; the leg he had hit before. He felt as if he was boiling time to flush the coolant again. The roar of missiles came in from behind him. "No time now," he thought. The remaining PPC finished recharging and he fired it off at the Vultures wounded leg. It fell back again and this time was not able to get up. It lay there like an incapacitated turtle on its back. Another massive explosion of this time hitting too close to home. The left torso erupted into flames and exposed his internal structure. In retaliation he slammed his foot on a foot pedal and turned around. The Kit Fox was still circling him and the other Catapult still firing. Suddenly both the Kit Fox and Catapult stopped and regrouped. On the horizon was their reason why: the company of five 'Mechs from the other dropship. They were coming pacing towards them in no rush. The remaining Combine MechWarriors jettisoned their ammunition in a sign of retreat. They backed up, turned around, and began cruising away. Compromise hit the manual shut down then opened the cockpit and climbed down the ladder on the right side to survey the damage. An outside perspective showed him an image that was worse than he thought. The entire left side was nothing more than mangled metal and protruding metallic skeleton. Now was time for him to wait. He would search for survivors after the smoke had cleared. The five BattleMechs were now a few hundred yards away. The rain went back to drizzle and Compromise put on his brown trench coat from the cockpit and awaited his long awaited companions.
|