Lethal heritage Read online

  Kai brought up the crosshairs and triggered the autocannon again. Through the display, he saw steel crossbraces spark and snap as the heavy weapon's shells slammed through them. The computer's projection, taking into account the nature of the damage that would have been done to the Valkyrie, sent shards of armor flying from the 'Mech's chest. Kai saw the Valkyrie stagger as reports of the incredible damage done to it scrolled by on his primary data monitor.

  The Valkyrie collapsed as its real-world analog sagged slowly to the ground. Beyond it, the computer identified another imaginary threat and another one after that. Kai, acting without thinking, sped through the targeting range. When the heat build-up in his 'Mech caused the heat monitors to rise from blue to green and then to yellow, he temporarily abandoned use of the autocannon and concentrated on using the lasers. Though they could do less damage—and the forward laser had a tendency to shoot low—they produced less heat for the 'Mech to dissipate.

  At the end of the run, sweat pouring off him like rain, Kai laughed aloud. "I feel like I've been resurrected from the grave. That felt great!"

  Rumble's reply fed back the enthusiasm in Kai's voice. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, that was bloody incredible. Your time/score ratio is only twenty points behind the base record—and that was with you compensating for a misaligned forward laser!"

  Kai smiled broadly. "Thank you, Mr. Rumble." He wanted to make another comment, but hearing the pleasure in his own voice sent a haunting echo through his mind. That was easy, Kai, because those targets weren't shooting back. You've excelled at a game, but nothing more. One mistake, one misstep in battle, and you'll be very, very dead.

  Kai sobered up. "We'll have to realign and recalibrate the forward laser. And I can't bypass a target, then take it out with the rear laser ..."

  Rumble sounded confused. "But you did that after you executed the standard maneuver to evade fire from a Savannah Master hovercraft. That's the toughest target we have on this course and you snagged it with a clean shot."

  "It was sloppy and stupid. That's the sort of thing you might expect to see in an 'Immortal Warrior' holovid." Kai caught himself and filtered the anger out of his voice. It's not his fault, Kai. You got carried away and got lucky. He's just commenting on your performance.

  Kai forced some levity into his voice, though he no longer felt pleased with himself. "Have to remember the basics, Sergeant, and that's what these training runs are for. Let's leave the flashy moves for fighters on Solaris and the holovids."

  "Yes, sir."

  "And let's downplay the fact that this is Yen-lo-wang and how well I did on this run. In fact, if we could downplay who my father is, I'd appreciate it. I don't want some idiot who thinks he's a hero to be challenging me to timed runs through this course just to prove how tough he is."

  "Got it. See you down in the 'Mech bay, Stall 1F00."

  "Roger." Kai switched off the radio as he turned the Centurion and headed back into base. Be careful, Kai, and stay in control at all times. Your father programmed this 'Mech to remind you that he and your mother are proud of you. Don't do anything to change that.

  8

  Sector 313 Alpha, Sisyphus's Lament

  The Rock System, Oberon Confederation

  13 August 3049

  "Hound Deuce to Hound Leader. I have positive contact." Phelan punched an increase in magnification into the computer of his Wolfhound. "Kenny Ryan might think he's a chip off the old block, but we'll put an end to that lie right now."

  Lieutenant Jackson Tang answered immediately. "Copy that, Deuce. Is this confirmed?"

  "Affirmative, Leader." Dammit, Jack, I know the amount of iron in this rock has been playing hob with our sensors. "I have a vislight image at one thousand mag. I mark one Locust and one Griffin at a klick. Their gold paint scheme and red insignia stand out against the rocks. Want me to count pores on the pilots for you?"

  The tone of Tang's reply was apologetic. "Negative, Deuce. Good work. I've got your position. We'll be working our way up."

  Phelan glanced at his auxiliary monitor, where the computer displayed a diagram of the star system for a myriameter in radius around his position. Up near the top of the display, Phelan saw the icon representing the JumpShip Cucamulus, but it was only shown at half-intensity green. That meant the asteroids between Sisyphus's Lament and the ship prevented communications between it and Tang's lance of four 'Mechs. Likewise, the hatf-intensity red icon used to mark the last-known position of Captain Wilson and the company's other two lances meant those other 'Mechs were incommunicado.

  "Hound Leader, do I sit put until we establish a commlink with the base, or do I move in? I have cover out another five hundred meters." Phelan punched up a data feed and had the computer relay it to Jack Tang's Blackjack.

  "Hold on, Deuce. The data feed is coming across fuzzy. Let's try to stick together on this. Don't want you jumped like you were back on Gunzburg. I'm one ridge behind you. Trey and Kat are coming up to your left."

  The young mercenary frowned. I guess I deserved that. "Roger, Leader."

  Phelan wiped his sweaty palms against the ballistic cloth covering of his cooling vest. His right hand brushed the cool metal of the belt-buckle Tyra had given him. He smiled and adjusted the Mauser and Gray M-43 needier pistol on his right thigh. He knew that if his cockpit module were breached, this cold rock had just enough of an oxygen atmosphere to rust the rocks and let him freeze to death if no help came. Even if I could draw the pistol with frozen fingers, it wouldn't do me any good. Somehow, though, it is comforting to wear it. It must be the superstition of routine that makes me feel that way. Strapping the thing on is the only normal piece of this whole operation.

  The Cucamulus had arrived in The Rock system at a pirate jump point. Because of the massive gravitational forces and subsequent warping of space around stars, JumpShips were limited to entering star systems at a "safe" distance— "safe" being dependent on the size and energy level of the star. Most JumpShips appeared at the apex or nadir jump points located directly above or below the stellar poles because those were the most efficient places to unfurl the ship's solar collectors to recharge the Kearny-Fuchida jump drive. While the Jump Ship recharged, the DropShips made the long journey insystem from the jump point.

  Pirate points were jump points a safe distance from the sun, but calculated to be on or near the star's orbital plane. This placed the JumpShip much closer to a system's planets, but also put the ship at much greater risk during jump. Pirate points had to be calculated exactly because of the increased amount of matter located in and around the planets. In a system consisting mostly of asteroids, like The Rock System, a JumpShip captain had to be a genius or crazy to bring his vessel in at a pirate jump point.

  Janos Vandermeer, Captain of the Cucamulus, could qualify as either. He brought the Cu in close to the largest asteroid. Known as The Rock, it had given its name to the whole system. It had an atmosphere that made it habitable, and aside from the need to harvest water from the iceballs floating in the asteroid belt, it was supposed to be a pleasant place. Kenny Ryan's pirates had just begun to use it as a base, and the Kell Hounds hoped to catch them by surprise by bringing the Cu in close.

  When the ship appeared insystem, the initial scans picked up no communications at all from The Rock. Vandermeer had ordered an immediate scan of the surrounding area and got snippets of radio contacts from several sites in the asteroid belt. Captain Wilson deployed her forces and slowly began a sweep of the asteroids best suited to supporting a pirate band's secret haven.

  And we got Sisyphus's Lament. After five hours of humping up and down these iron mountains, thank God we got something. Phelan glanced sourly at his display, then punched up another increase in magnification. "Holy Mother of God, Jack, I mean Hound Leader. Ryan's folks are running from something. I have definite visuals on lasers going in and out and something I mark as long-range missile fire incoming."

  Over across the valley, Phelan saw a small, birdlike Locust ducking and dodgin
g between reddish mounds of rock. The awkwardness of its gait was accentuated by the large hops the asteroid's lighter gravity allowed it. Missiles arced up and over the hills behind it, peppering the whole area around the fleeing 'Mech with explosions. Staggered barrages herded the Locust diagonally across the hillside, then another 'Mech appeared in a narrow pass between two bluffs.

  Phelan frowned heavily as the computer sharpened and tried to label the image of the new 'Mech. Confused, the computer identified the 'Mech first as a Catapult, then almost immediately reclassified it as a Marauder. It's got that hunched-over torso with the bird legs common to both designs, all right. And it's got the Catapult's wing-mounted LRM launchers, but it also has the Marauder's weapon pods. And I've never seen that flat gray color scheme before, either. Who and what the hell is it?

  The unidentified 'Mech jabbed both blocky pods at the Locust, sending out twin ruby lasers to skewer the Locust's right flank. The first beam melted the armor from the Locust's torso, making it drip steaming to the asteroid's surface while exposing the 'Mech's skeleton and internal structures.

  The second beam stabbed through the hole the first had made. Its fiery touch ignited the machine gun ammo stored in the 'Mech's chest, then destroyed the Locust's gyrostabilizers. As the light 'Mech's right side sagged in on itself, the 'Mech stumbled and rolled down the hillside. Its headlong spill ended with a jarring collision against a huge iron boulder the color of dried blood.

  Three more of Ryan's bandit 'Mechs broke from cover and tried to rush across the valley toward Phelan's hidden watch position. Two of them, the humanoid Griffin he'd seen earlier and another humanoid 'Mech, a Panther, darted from cover to cover. Both pilots used their 'Mechs' jump jets to quickly cross areas strewn with rocks too small for cover, but large enough to slow their sprint speed. Bringing up the rear came another humanoid 'Mech. Instead of arms, it sprouted twin-barrelled weapon pods. Larger than either the Griffin or Panther, and without jump jets, it moved more slowly than either of its compatriots. Phelan sensed the pilot's panic as he guided the Rifleman down the hillside and discovered he'd boxed himself in.

  "Hound Leader, continue your present heading to make the plain. We've got help trapping the rats."

  Confusion rang through Jack's voice. "Who ... what?"

  Phelan shrugged and moved from cover. "I can't identify our help, but they're on the ridge a kilometer off, driving Ryan toward us."

  Tang laughed lightly. "Enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

  Phelan saw Tang's black and red Blackjack appear down on the edge of the plain. Tang's barrel-chested, humanoid 'Mech had arms that ended in the autocannon muzzles, with the muzzle of a medium laser riding piggyback on the outside of the forearm. The scout lance leader wove his 'Mech through the dolmen at the nearest edge of the plain, closing on Ryan's 'Mechs without being seen.

  Opposite Tang's position, two more strange-looking 'Mechs entered the battlefield. Phelan's computer again vacillated in assigning a label to the new machines. It's calling them Warhammers because of the chassis type, but the addition of Marauder-type arms instead of the particle projection cannons is giving it fits. Both 'Mechs moved in on the trapped Rifleman.

  Ryan's Griffin turned its attention to Tang's approaching Blackjack. Phelan tightbeamed a warning to his Lieutenant, then brought his 'Mech around from behind the outcropping he'd been using for cover. Opening a widebeam broadcast, he snapped a challenge at the pirate captain. "Over here, you excuse for retroactive birth control. We're the ones you said would never get you. Move it. Let's prove natural selection was correct."

  The Griffin reoriented itself toward him, then Phelan saw it freeze for a moment. The Wolfhound Phelan piloted had a humanoid form arid walked upright, but its unusual silhouette gave most enemy pilots reason to pause. Its right wrist ended in the muzzle of a large laser, and three medium laser ports dotted its scarlet chest in a triangular pattern. Most startling, however, was the 'Mech's head and cockpit assembly whose design accented and heightened the implied threat of the Wolfhound's lean deadliness.

  The head had been crafted for both image and function. Its jutting muzzle and twin viewports combined with the upthrust triangular sensor panels on either side to give the Wolfhound a canine appearance. Phelan had taken the image one step further and painted the 'Mech's muzzle to appear that the war machine was baring white fangs in a fierce snarl. Aluminum strips inlaid beneath the paint job outlined the teeth so that the 'Mech's wolfish grin appeared even on magscan and infrared sensor modes.

  Phelan started his 'Mech down the hillside as Tang's Blackjack broke from cover and raised both its arms. The

  'Mech's twin autocannons fired salvos at the pirate Panther. Phelan's computer marked the distance between the Blackjack and the Panther as 800 meters, putting the shot at the extreme edge of Tang's effective range. Despite the difficulty, Tang hit with one of his two shots, pulverizing armor plates over the Panther's heart.

  Picking up speed, Phelan worked his way through the debris scattered over the plain's near side. As he saw it, Ryan seemed more intent on running from the 'Mechs pursuing him than evading the Kell Hounds. It's his funeral... With each jump, the Griffin came closer and closer to Phelan.

  As the range dropped to 600 meters, Phelan brought his 'Mech to a stop and crouched behind the last house-sized boulder between him and the smooth valley floor. One more jump and you're mine. Five hundred meters may top out my range on this large laser, but if Jack can hit at max, so can I. Come on, Kenny Ryan, let's get it over with.

  Phelan's right hand moved the joystick that dropped the golden crosshairs onto the Griffin's broad chest. A dot in the center of the cross flashed red. Phelan hit the firing stud beneath his right thumb and felt a wave of heat wash through the cockpit as the large laser unleashed its beam of coherent light.

  The coruscating beam stabbed into the Griffin's left shoulder, blasting away steaming shards of half-melted ceramic armor. As though unsatisfied with the armor it had destroyed, the beam's terrible energy cut through the myomer muscles on the 'Mech's upper arm, which split like hunks of meat being torn to pieces by some beast. Lastly, the beam heated the ferro-titanium humerus to the point where it glowed white, further melting myomer muscles.

  Ryan hit his jump jets at the last second, but it did nothing to mitigate the damage. The abrupt take-off wrenched the damaged arm badly, snapping the metal bone and sending the severed limb flying. Suddenly unbalanced, the Griffin reeled like a drunken acrobat and slammed into the ground on its right shoulder. The jump jets pushed the one-armed 'Mech across the plain, leaving sparks and armor plates in its wake until Ryan finally shut them down.

  Phelan stared at the Griffin's wreckage. My large laser shouldn't have done that much damage! Those other guys must really have softened them up. Phelan shifted his vision to the Panther Tang was sparring with. Yeah, it's been hit all over, but most of the damage has been done to the legs and arms.

  A cold chill ran down his spine as Phelan realized the Griffin and the Rifleman had been similarly savaged. Either those other guys are very unlucky, or they're placing shots with greater care than almost any MechWarrior this side of Jaime Wolf or my father.

  As if they had read his thoughts, the three unknown 'Mechs moved in. The one that had brought the Locust down came to a stop just over nine hundred meters from the Panther and brought both pods up. Twin large-laser beams flashed out and caught the Panther in the back of its thighs. What little armor still remained on the pirate 'Mech's legs vanished in a cloud of ceramic steam. Myomer muscles ran like water and boiled away where they touched the titanomagnesium femurs that held the Panther upright. The lasers amputated the Panther's legs with surgical precision. Its legs cut out from under it, the Panther smashed flat on its back and did not move as the dust stirred up by its fall quickly drifted down to coat it with a red blanket.

  "Blake's Blood! Did you see that, Phelan?" A tremble in Jack Tang's normally calm voice betrayed his unease.

  Phelan stared at
the computer projection of the range and damage done to the Panther. Seven hundred meters for a large laser! That's impossible! They can only hit at 450 max. He hit a button that opened a tight channel between him and Hound Leader. "I don't like this, Jack. Keep Trey and Kat out of this. Jesus Christ Almighty, look at what they've done to the Rifleman!"

  The twin 'Mechs moving in on the last operational pirate machine simultaneously let fly with short-range missile barrages and bursts from their dual autocannons. The missiles covered the trapped Rifleman with explosions. The blasts staggered the machine and opened cratered wounds in its armor, which oozed melted metal. The pilot, fighting for control, somehow managed to keep the Rifleman on its broad, flat feet.

  Phelan suddenly found himself hoping for the impossible, that the Rifleman could win out.

  The gray 'Mechs it faced did not give the pirate a chance. Sparks lanced from the barrels of his guns as one of the pilots walked his autocannon fire along them and into the Rifleman's right shoulder. Armor flew in a blizzard from the damaged limb, then an explosion flipped the arm up and out. It cartwheeled through the air, bouncing off several rocks before it crashed to the ground.

  The second mystery 'Mech raked one stream of autocannon shells across the Rifleman's belly. The projectiles ripped jagged scars in the 'Mech's armored flesh while the other autocannon's destructive fire gnawed away at the Rifleman's already-mauled left shoulder. It sliced through the remaining armor and drive mechanisms with the ease of a razor carving flesh. The 'Mech's left arm lurched, then dropped toward the ground, only to be jerked to a halt by useless drive chains and belted links of autocannon ammo. Swinging slowly back and forth, the arm dangled like an ornament, mocking the Rifleman's once-formidable destructive capabilities.

  "Hound Deuce, I'm going to hail these guys. I'll offer them the salvage on these 'Mechs. Maybe they'll give us Kenny to take back and collect our pay."