The Price of Glory

But no, neither side had suffered that much in the fight so far. The Marik commander was pulling his 'Mechs back up the ridge west of the DropShips, but he was moving in good order and his 'Mechs were still fast and dangerous. Chances were that the withdrawal was a tactical movement only, an effort to win better ground on which to continue the fight, clear of the DropShips' fire.

"All units!" Grayson shouted over the taccom frequency. "All units! Coordinate on me! Fire lance, rally between the DropShips. Command lance, form on me!"

He shifted frequencies. "Phobos! Phobos!Use, are you there?"

Use Martinez's voice came through his headphones. "We're still here and buttoned up tight, Colonel!”

“How bad's your damage?"

"Thurston is still checking his. The Phoboslost a couple of laser turrets and took some hits in the main armor belt, but she's holding together just fine. Need any help?"

"Yeah! Monitor for enemy transmissions. I don't know why they've stopped their jamming, but it may be to pass on new orders. You hear something uncoded, let me know!"

"Right. Anything else?"

"Cover our tail. You got infantry?"

"Two squads of Specials. They were mounting guard close in and pulled inside when things got rough. You want 'em?"

"Just deploy them. Have them watch our tails. We're going to kick these people back over the ridge!"

"Kick 'em hard for me, Colonel! You know where!"

Combat excitement tingled in Grayson's body. A Marik Archermoved among the trees ahead and above him. He angled his forearm weapons up five degrees and triggered his PPCs together. The Archerwhirled, released a salvo of missiles that went wide, then scuttled for cover, smoke and tattered wiring trailing from damage low on its left arm.

What had become of the enemy's jamming? Sweeping through the frequencies, he could pick up bits and pieces of communications between enemy units, but so far, it was all uncoded. His foe seemed as surprised about developments as Grayson was. What then . . . mechanical failure?

His motion sensor peeped alarm. Grayson slewed his Marauderaround, facing a new threat bursting through the scrub brush fifty meters uphill and to his left. He swung the Marauder,weapons ready. His hand nearly closed on the firing trigger before he realized that his sights had locked in on Graff's Assassin.

"Don't shoot, Colonel! Thank God you made it!"

"Graff!" Suspicion edged Grayson's voice. If Graff were skulking away from the recon lance's battle line . . . "What the hell are you doing down here?"

"My coolant seal blew, Colonel! I don't know if I took a hit, or just had a major malfunction, but my board's lit red like you wouldn't believe! The Lieutenant said I could retire to Phobosand have the Techs there put in a quick fix."

"Right." Grayson gestured with one of his 'Mech's arms. "Move it, Graff, and get back to the line. We need you."

"Yessir!" The Assassinscrambled down the slope in a cascade of dust and broken tree branches, moving past the Marauderand on toward the silvery dome of the Phobospartly visible through the trees a thousand meters up the valley.

Grayson's Maraudercontinued his climb. His own heat indicators were flashing red as his heat sinks struggled to dump the heat accumulated from his brief clash with the enemy Wolverineand Centurion.He had been pushing his 'Mech hard ever since they'd begun the forced march from Durandel almost two hours earlier. His heat levels were back within safe levels, but they would continue to be one more small but nagging worry.

Of more concern was the status of his recon lance. The three light 'Mechs had gone to ground on top of the ridge, lying down among the boulders and broken ground to better conceal their machines and to enable them to draw steady sightings on the approaching enemy forces.

"Lieutenant Roget!" he said into his throat mike. "What's your Twenty?"

"Colonel! Are we glad to see you!" Francine Roget's voice sounded tired, and nearly broken with strain as she gave him a rapid rundown on the recon lance's condition. Her Pantherhad taken serious hits to its front torso, left leg, and right arm, but was still functioning well. Missile fire had smashed the SRM rack in the chest of Vander-griff's Commando,which had caused considerable internal damage, but the arm-mounted laser and SRM launcher were still in the fight. A Marik Archerhad blasted away the left leg of Sylvia Trevor's Wasp—and with it her SRM-2. Roget had helped drag the Waspto a good position, however, from where Trevor continued to fire with the light 'Mech's medium laser.

"And the enemy?" Grayson moved his Marauderto get a view down the slope. Before him, he could see smoke rising from burning vehicles at the bottom of the hill, and what looked like the still, broken form of a knocked-out Locust.

"There have been at least four separate attacks, Colonel. All light stuff from down there. I think we knocked out a Stinger,earlier on." The arm of Roget's Pantherpointed off to the northwest, and Grayson could see a still, silvery shape there, inert among the weeds. "The Archersurprised us from the rear, but I think you frightened him off. We've been taking a lot of fire from all directions."

"The rest of the command lance is moving up behind you now," Grayson said, "so don't shoot them as they come in. I also ran into Graff and he told me you cleared his withdrawal to handle his malfunction. He'll be back up here as soon as that's taken care of."

'Whatmalfunction!" Her voice was rimed with ice, the tension showing through again.

"Eh? he told me you cleared it."

"That coward! He vanished just before the first wave hit, like he made his 'Mech invisible. I'll givehim a malfunction, next time I see him!"

Grayson felt cold. So Graff had run during the battle, had left his comrades on the ridge to face overwhelming odds, while he skulked among the trees on the slope below. Under the rules of war, a man could be shot for that, if he were caught and convicted under a general court. There was no time to think anymore about that now.

"You've done well, Francine. You may have held their center long enough to save the DropShips."

"There's more, Captain." She still sounded taut, as though she were holding herself together by sheer force of will. "I think they're bringing up infantry."

"Where?"

"There were vehicles moving that way, a little bit ago. Our infantry took out that Locust... I think maybe they captured it, because it looked from here like that Locustwas firing on those vehicles down in the valley. That was a few minutes ago, when the jamming went off."

"You think those are jammer vehicles?"

"Can't tell from here, but I think so. Anyway, there was a lot of infantry—APCs, skimmers, mostly light stuff—moving through the trees down there. I think they were deploying up to the top of the ridge, but they went to ground when that Locustopened up."

"Anything more from the Locust?"

"It took some hits a few minutes ago. It's been dead since."

Damn.Whoever had turned the Locustagainst the Marik ECM cars may possibly have saved the Legion. And while Graff was ru

"O.K. Hold your position here. I'll get a handed 'Mech up to help with Trevor's Waspas soon as we're sure the enemy is really pulling out."