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For the moment, the Captain's communication link was silent. The Steiner forces would soon begin to notice the fall-off in counterfire. Before his position lay a row of foothills stretching like a washboard up to a line of mountains in the distance. The enemy fire was coming primarily from the ridgeline just ahead of his position, and from a forested ridge to his right. Swords Three had reported a light lance probing his flank. If he took his Shadow Hawkand Upescue's Crusadersharp right into the light lance, he just might avoid most of the long-range fire. It might also convince the Lyrans that the company was trying to wheel right for a breakthrough in that direction. If nothing else, it might confuse them.
‘Lippy, move over here. You and I are going to look for a little trouble on our right. Bryant, take your Wasp,and fire at random from all along our perimeter. I want you to fire, then move, trying to act like you're a whole company. You got that?’
‘Yes sir. Captain. Fire then run. all along our front.’
‘That's it. Shoot at everything that moves on the Steiner front for about fifteen minutes, or until they get mad and come in after you. Then run like hell for that ridgeline behind us. One and Three will be there to back you up.’
‘Gotcha, sir.’
‘Give'em hell, kid.’ St. George knew it was no time for trite phrases, but Regimental had not left him much else.
‘Ready. Lippy?’ he said. ‘Follow my line ahead, and we'll give them the old bait and switch.’
The two large units moved off in the direction of the tree line to the right. The terrain consisted of fields covered with grain up to the 'Mechs' ankles. There were no houses to be seen, and any indigs must have fled hours ago.
He could still see the shocked faces of the populace as the Swords had raced through town. They had overrun the defenses at the power plant and then dug in. Then came the counterattack. Though the rest of the 33rd was taking heavy casualties, the 131st battalion did not lose a 'Mech. They had been ordered to drive into the countryside in an attempt to draw off the heaviest forces until reinforcements arrived. The 131st had struck out from the power plant in waves. One company would go out until it stalled. Then another would thrust through its predecessor's position until it, too, ground to a halt. The waves continued one after another, deeper and deeper into the enemy positions, until the Steiners gave up and fell back. Holding the power plant and the 131st's rear was a mercenary lance. Seguin's Strikers. The rest of the 131st was spread out on either side of a corridor about three kilometers wide and thirteen long, with The Swords of St. George at its point. Then the whole Marik drive stalled. Instead of drawing off the heavy forces hammering the rest of the regiment, they had drawn down the wrath of the Lyran air arm. Meanwhile, the 33rd's counterair continued to shrink.
Moving his Shadow Hawkinto the trees, St. George left the missile barrage behind.
Watching his readouts with eager eyes, he wondered if Swords Three could have been mistaken.
Suddenly, a Locustmoved out from behind a dense thicket, probably masked from his sensors by the foliage. When St. George let loose a volley of short-range missiles, the light 'Mech's pilot sprinted straight away from the advancing Shadow Hawklike a frightened rabbit. The missiles hit near the right leg assembly, -but the Locustjust kept on moving.
‘Lippy, I've got one dead ahead. Find some cover, and be ready for my return.’
‘Roger. Cap. That thicket might do if I scrunch down and think tiny thoughts.’
The Captain charged on, opening up with both his autoca
St George's laser fire began to tell. The right leg servomotor on the Locustflared in a cascade of sparks, and the fleeing Mech spun, off-balance, to a halt. Then the autoca
St. George launched an SRM volley into the torso armor, and the explosion touched off the Locustsremaining machine gun ammo. The light Mech sagged down on the damaged leg, smoke pouring from every vent in its torso.
‘Got one, Lippy. Be ready. This should really set them off.’
All hell broke loose around his 'Mech as the missile fire resumed in force. With their own Mech gone, the Steiner forces weren't holding back. Captain St. George lunged forward, avoiding the worst of the barrage by moving in the one direction they would least expect.
He burst from the cover of the forest onto a plain, the unseen far side of the ridge in front of the Swords position. Moving up the plain were seven Mechs. To the rear was an Atlasfiring LRMs blindly into the forest. To the left was a Warhammerand a pair of Wasps.To the right and moving up quickly was a Rifleman.In front of his Shadow Hawkand screening him from the fire of the rest were two Cicadas.
Without hesitation, he let the closest Cicadahave it with his whole weapons array. His autoca
‘Look out, Lippy. We're only going to have one shot before we fall back. There're two lances out there and they look confident of support, so make it good.’
‘What are we looking at, Cap'n?’ came back the Crusaderpilot's voice.
‘If we're lucky, a Cicada,but after the surprise I just gave one I met back there, look for a Rifleman.He was almost as close.’ Sweat was pouring down St. George's face. Weapons fire and rapid movement were sending his 'Mech's heat up to the danger point.
By now, the LRMs had stopped firing. The huge Assault Mech that had been supplying the fire was no doubt moving up to support its smaller fellows. St. George decided to take this opportunity to charge straight back up the path. It seemed a long time before he passed the smoking wreckage of the Locust,its torso now glowing a dull red. Despite the relative dampness that seemed to pervade the area, the 'Mech's burning had ignited the surrounding foliage.
‘Here we come, Lippy. Heads up!’ the Captain called out.
‘They'll never know what hit 'em!’ Lipescue's voice sounded eager.
St. George gave a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods there be that his company had at least a few veterans to leaven the kids. If they hadn't, this attempt to fall back would have become a rout.
The Captain's Shadow Hawkthundered past the ambush position. Lipescue's Crusaderwas barely traceable through the thick shrubbery and the background of smoldering underbrush.
‘I'm going to hook back up the path a bit. If it is the Rifleman,you'll need a little help to finish it off quickly.’
‘Don't turn too soon, sir,’ came the Crusaderpilot's reply. ‘We don't want him to think you're going to make a stand before he gets to the party.’
‘Roger that, Lippy.’
As the Captain moved up the path, he contacted the lonely Wasphe had left in the Swords's old position.
‘Trooper Bryant, Trooper Bryant. This is Captain St. George. Come in.’