Warrior: Riposte (The Warrior Trilogy, Book Two): BattleTech Legends, #58 Page 18
The Wolfhound’s medium lasers unerringly cored three tunnels through the nearest Panther’s right arm. The computer imaging system showed the limb snapping off at the shoulder before flying off into the night. The Wolfhound’s large laser slammed into the farthest ’Mech’s open right flank, burning through what little was left of it, straight into the Mech’s heart. The beam, according to the computer, melted all the shielding around the Panther’s fusion engine, shutting it down forever.
The weaponless Panther rocketed from combat on the ion jump jets in its legs, and Dan let it go because warning lights ignited throughout his cockpit. Long-range missiles incoming! “What the hell!” he exclaimed. Dan’s secondary monitor showed incoming tracks for two score LRMs—and all converging on one spot.
Almost without conscious thought, Dan sprinted the Wolfhound forward, heading straight toward the source of the LRMs. He grinned as the missiles, unable to shorten their trajectories to compensate for his speed, arced over his position. Dan punched two keys on his command console. The computer calculated the origin point for all the missile tracks while his visual scan shifted back to infrared.
He nodded in thought. Twin LRM 20 packs are going to kick out lots of heat. There’ll be no hiding it. Dan punched an inquiry into the computer, then smiled as the answer came up on the screen. Yeah. Morgan’s Archer is the only ’Mech we have that sports two LRM 20s.
After the computer track projection displayed the coordinates of the attack’s origin, Dan turned the Wolfhound so that the coordinate grid marks on the top of the screen pointed him straight in the direction of Morgan’s Archer.
He gave a little laugh. OK, Morgan, I know what your Archer’s got. Hiding behind that hill won’t help you. Dan increased his speed, sending the thirty-five-ton Wolfhound hurling through the low brush covering the hillside. Once I crest this baby, your LRMs won’t have range on me. This close, my Wolfhound outguns your Archer’s twin lasers.
The Wolfhound sprinted over the hilltop, but no heat image painted itself on the computer display. Dan shifted the scanners over to starlight, and the holographic display redrew itself in the grays and greens of light intensification. Gotcha! Centered on his display, right where the computer predicted it would be, stood Morgan’s Archer.
The humanoid ’Mech looked deformed in comparison with the clean-limbed shape of Dan’s Wolfhound. The Archer’s head jutted forward grotesquely from just above the center of its chest, and its hunchbacked shoulders were elongated to house both LRM launchers and their missiles. Powerful arms hung from each shoulder, but ended in ridiculously blocky forearms and stubby fingers. The forearms mounted the Archer’s two forward-firing medium lasers, while the two lasers protecting the Archer’s rear arc stabbed backward from a ball turret riding where the Mech’s head should have been.
Dan dropped the large laser’s crosshairs onto the ungainly ’Mech’s silhouette, but as his computer confirmed a lock, Morgan reacted. Like a dancer, Kell spun the Archer’s bulk around to face the stalking Wolfhound. The Archer’s right arm came up, its medium laser flashing.
Dammit! He’s still fast! With the speed of reflex, Dan dropped the Wolfhound to one knee. While Morgan’s laser passed harmlessly over him, the Wolfhound’s medium lasers lashed out in a trident of energy beams. Two stabbed into the Archer’s right leg, blasting some armor from it. The third beam sliced its way up the ’Mech’s right forearm, but the computer reported nothing more serious than armor damage.
Dan frowned as the Archer made no move to escape. Morgan’s offering to slug it out! Why? He knows I’ve got more weaponry than he does if he can’t use his LRMs. Still pondering the question at the back of his mind, Dan lashed out with everything his ’Mech had. Two of the medium lasers seared into the Archer’s left leg while the third, inexplicably, missed altogether. The Wolfhound’s heavy laser sliced ribbons of armor from the Archer’s torso, but failed to do any internal damage.
When the Archer’s twin forearm lasers blasted into the Wolfhound’s chest, Dan got his first clue to Morgan’s strategy. The Wolfhound schematic showed that the lasers had cored two-thirds of the way through the armor. I outgun him, but he can survive more rounds of this mutual pounding. Time to move! Shooting a glance at the heat monitors, and then cursing the levels he saw, Dan turned the Wolfhound and sprinted up over the crest of the hill. To keep Morgan from tagging him with blind LRM flights, Dan worked his ’Mech down the slope on an angle.
He frowned. I’ll have to get Clovis to check how the heat affects my targeting equipment. I wanted to get a parting shot at Morgan with my aft laser, but it wouldn’t lock. That’s a dangerous problem.
Halting the Wolfhound so that the heat exchangers could bring down the levels to normal ranges, Dan ran a quick diagnostic program that reported all his weapons functional and also highlighted the damage his ’Mech had taken in the mock battle. He groaned. I hope I do better than this in a real fight. If not, all my pay is going to go to keeping this ’Mech in armor. In spite of the damage report, he smiled. At least, in this ’Mech, I’ll be alive to make the repairs, which is something…
Deciding to take the long way around the hill, Dan started the Wolfhound moving off at a slow pace. Is Morgan expecting me to close with him—which makes sense for me—or to engage him at longer range—a move that would surprise him? Morgan always was one of the best, and the years in exile don’t seem to have slowed him down at all. If I don’t play it smart, I’ll never get out of this one.
A sudden thought flashed into Dan’s mind. He’s expecting me to close or engage at long range by coming around the hill. But what if I just go back up over it again? Yeah… He turned the Wolfhound to his right, taking the ’Mech up the hillside once again. Seeing the Archer waiting down at the valley’s far end, Dan grinned. He dropped the sights for all his weapons onto the hulking Archer’s outline, but the sights refused to pulse. What the…?
As the Archer swung into line with the Wolfhound, its arms came up. Dan dodged to the right, allowing the beams to sizzle past harmlessly. He stabbed the diagnostics key on his display while continuing to dodge and work his way downhill as the computer redrew the outline of his ’Mech.
Still shows no damage! Then how come I can’t…? Even as the thought entered his mind, Dan’s blood ran cold. It was just like that last battle on Mallory’s World when the Kell Hound ’Mechs seemed to refuse to show Morgan’s ’Mech as a target on their screens, and then again on Styx when the same thing happened in the battle between Yorinaga and Patrick. His mouth tasted sour, and his brain continued to protest what his eyes were showing him. This can’t be happening…
As the Archer bobbed back into view and raised both arms, Dan dropped the Wolfhound to its knees. As his computer projected twin lasers burning above his ’Mech’s head, Dan jerked the Wolfhound to its feet and set off at a sprint away from the Archer.
The hillside eclipsed Dan’s view of the Archer. Get a grip, Dan. It may be impossible, but it’s happening. He shuddered. You couldn’t shoot Yorinaga’s Warhammer on Styx, but you were able to hit it with your Valkyrie. It did exist. There has to be a way. You’re a MechWarrior. Figure it out.
A hopelessly reckless idea popped into Dan’s head. Better to try it here in some simulation than to learn it doesn’t work in real combat, he told himself. He reached over and switched targeting control from the joysticks to the computer.
The computer’s voice spoke with mechanical urgency. “Disengaging manual targeting unadvisable.”
“Shut up.” Dan turned, continuing to work around the hill. He raced along faster than might have seemed prudent in unfamiliar terrain in the dark, but his natural sense of balance, as relayed to the Wolfhound through the neurohelmet and sensor pads, kept the ’Mech upright.
Dan summoned an Archer schematic from the secondary monitor. “Rear view,” he commanded verbally. The computer dutifully spun the image, bringing a grin to Dan’s face. “Initiate Setshot program.”
“Use of targeting program unad
visable.”
“Shut up.” Dan glanced at the scale running beside the Archer’s image. “Target point equals laser source minus three meters elevation, plus twenty-five meters distance.” My weapons and sensors might not be able to see you, Morgan. Maybe they won’t allow me to shoot you, but they do acknowledge your lasers in this little simulation, and I can shoot through you.
Dan crossed himself. Please, God, let this work.
He swung the Wolfhound around the hill. He spotted Morgan immediately, and almost as quickly the lasers perched between the Archer’s shoulders swung down. Dan slowed as they locked on, forcing himself not to react despite the alarms wailing in his cockpit and the butterflies churning in his stomach.
Warning lights flared across the Wolfhound’s console as the medium lasers blasted armor from the ’Mech’s right side. Dan waited to see whether the arming lights for his weapons would die out because of damage, but none blinked or wavered. The lasers had only destroyed armor.
“All weapons, fire!” The computer drew four lines on Dan’s display, focusing through and beyond the Archer’s visual image. Morgan’s ’Mech, which had begun to pivot, stopped dead. Its arms dropped to its sides, dangling like lynched renegades from the Archer’s hunched shoulders.
Morgan’s calm voice crackled into Dan’s neurohelmet. “Fancy shooting, Dan. You skewered the reactor…”
“Y-yes, sir.” Nervous sweat stung his eyes.
“So, Dan, how do you like your Wolfhound?”
The young Kell Hound swallowed as Morgan’s reassuringly warm voice melted some of the fear in his guts. “Fine, Colonel. I like it very much.” The analytical side of Dan’s mind shunted aside the last traces of fear. “I’ll miss my Valkyrie’s jump jets, but the added weaponry and armor make this a prime battler.”
Morgan’s pleasure survived the transmission intact. “Good, Dan. I’m pleased you like it. How long until you feel comfortable in it?”
Dan swallowed. Do you mean as long as I don’t have to fight with you? “Uh, I’m not sure. A month. Maybe more.” Dan hesitated. “There are still some things I want Clovis to explain.”
“Better make it a month,” Morgan said grimly. “We don’t have much more than that before we have to travel to the wedding.” The colonel’s warmth returned, however, when he added, “You did well, Captain. Take it in.”
Later, Dan hunched over Clovis as both of them stared in disbelief at the battletape’s replay. He pointed to the screen as his targeting crosshairs refused to acknowledge the Archer beneath them. “See that, Clovis? What in hell is going on?”
The dwarf shook his head. He rewound the tape, then slowed the image. He turned to his left and projected the scanner’s data feed to the computer on another monitor. Carefully, gently, he advanced the battletape centimeter by centimeter. As each image shifted on the picture screen, Clovis glanced at the raw data scrolling across the computer monitor.
He leaned back with a deep sigh. “Dan, I just don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? You programmed the Wolfhound. You have to know!”
The dwarf shrugged. “I’ve never seen anything like it, Dan.”
Dan was angry, not at Clovis, but at the memory. “Well I have, Clovis. In combat. I’ve seen it in combat.” Dan turned and slammed his fist against the wall. “I saw it twelve years ago on Mallory’s World, then twice more on Styx.” He turned back and pointed accusingly at the battletape’s flickering image. “Now I see it here.” His shoulders slumped. “Tell me something, Clovis.”
Clovis raised his hands and opened them. “I can tell you this, Dan,” he said slowly, pointing to the data feed. “The passive sensors, like your starlight sensors, can pick up photons bouncing off the Archer. That’s why you could see him or, at least, that’s why I think you could see him. The other sensors, like magscan or infrared, either don’t get data back when they send out a signal, or the computer fails to interpret it when it comes in.” Clovis shrugged helplessly. “That’s about all I can tell from such a brief look. But I want to do more thorough checking. Maybe cross-correlate all this with Morgan’s EEG and EKG readout from the fight.”
Dan frowned. None of it made any sense. “In simple terms, Clovis, what are you telling me?”
“What I’m telling you, Captain, is that for all intents and purposes, on the battlefield, the computer does not believe Morgan Kell exists.”
PART THREE: DOUBLÉ
Chapter 24
IN-SYSTEM
TERRA
14 AUGUST 3028
Duke Michael Hasek-Davion stared through his DropShip cabin’s big, round viewport at the blue-white ball that was his destination. Dozens and dozens of other DropShips—most spherical like the Overlord-class DropShip bearing the duke, but a few aerodynamically constructed as well—were all rushing in toward the planet.
The duke meditated on the world they were approaching. For centuries, DropShips and JumpShips have carried mankind away from this modest little planet. Terra is neither as large as others man has settled, nor is it as rich in minerals or life, yet it alone has produced a sentient species. That makes it very special, indeed.
The door to his cabin irised open with a hiss, bringing a small, slender man with thinning brown hair into the small room. Michael turned slowly, while the other man seemed to wince with discomfort with his every step. “You summoned me, my lord?”
Michael nodded, secretly exulting in the weight of his long, black braid against his spine. Poor Count Vitios. A man as slight as you is poorly endowed to endure travel at much more than one G, but I wish to arrive early. Besides, the exercise will put some tone into your muscles. “Indeed, I did.”
Vitios sank gratefully into the deeply cushioned chair that Duke Michael indicated. “How may I be of service, lord?”
The small man’s embarrassment at his weakness flashed over his pinched face while Michael clasped his hands behind his back and effortlessly paced before the viewport. “I wish to reassure myself that you will do nothing foolish on Terra.”
The count froze for half a second, then forced a smile. “Duke Michael, whatever do you mean?”
Michael returned the smile with a crafty one of his own. “Anton, I know you too well not to realize that you must have some sort of contingency plan for this opportunity. I know, though it has been a dozen years since the battle on Verlo, that you still mourn your wife and children.” Michael lifted his hand with palm out to forestall the count’s reply. “No one thinks you less a man for such open devotion, and many admire you for it.”
Michael turned his back to his visitor and watched the DropShips crawl along at a snail’s pace in their path toward Terra. “I watched the holovids of Justin Allard’s trial and saw how your prosecution revealed him to be the Liao agent he has so openly become of late. Yet your desire for revenge still runs deep and hot. This is good.”
“I would do nothing to embarrass you, my lord.”
Smiling, Michael turned again toward the count. “I know that, but I would not wish to see you caught foolishly in some situation that could hurt your crusade.”
The count frowned. “I understand very well, Duke Michael, the ComStar directive instructing no one to carry weaponry of any sort to the wedding. ComStar will screen all baggage and personnel before anyone or anything can leave the Savannah Spaceport quarantine area, and again before they enter the compound. Though I am not invited to the wedding and will stay in Savannah with the rest of the household staff, I have no intention of trying to smuggle in a weapon.”
Michael nodded curtly. “And well that you do not. ComStar has made it no secret that they will interdict the flow of messages to and from any House violating the wedding’s security. An interdiction would leave one deaf and blind.”
Count Vitios narrowed his eyes. “I would guess, then, my lord, that you mean to speak to me about another subject?”
Michael smiled. “Liao agents have brought me an offer of support against Hanse Davion.”
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br /> “Those God-cursed bastards!” The count’s jaw muscles bunched as he ground his teeth. “I hope you told them to go to hell!”
Before replying, Michael straightened himself up to full height. “As a matter of fact, I told them that the offer was most tempting.”
The count sank back speechlessly into the blue chair’s deep padding. His jaw hung open as he stared at Michael in disbelief.
The duke watched him with a smile. You, my bulldog, will have value in defending me only if you can see my true plan.
Michael turned away from his subordinate to again study the view of the many ships heading toward Terra. “Consider, Anton, what this marriage means in military and political terms to the Successor States. Hanse has promised me that he will reinforce the Capellan March with troops from the Draconis March as soon as this year’s Galahad exercises are over. He feels that the Draconis Combine will not be as much of a threat after the marriage to a Steiner because the alliance guarantees that the Dragon will have to fight a two-front war any time he decides to be aggressive.”
A nervous tremor rippled through the count’s voice. “That seems sensible, Highness. But it sounds as though you do not believe the Prince will keep his word.”
Michael nodded thoughtfully. “Your observation is correct, but I have developed this belief without assigning malice to my brother-in-law. I believe he will not get the opportunity.”
“I don’t know that I follow you, my lord.”
Michael pointed to some of the ships racing toward Terra. “There they are, Anton—the leaders of the Successor States. Lord Takashi Kurita is too wise to let himself be boxed in. Maximilian Liao still dreams of being the First Lord of a new Star League, and Janos Marik has no love for either House Steiner or House Davion. There can be no doubt that those three consider the strengthening of the alliance between Davion and Steiner to be a serious threat.”