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The TGR-1-T-H Tiger rumbled to life around Elizabeth Hazen.  The new design was only now being placed in production and the cockpit with its linear frame control system still had that “new car” smell.  Tied into the Cat’s Eye’s comm net she was still trying to make sense of what she was hearing.  The Lyrans on the ground were as confused as the Tigers were.

The only reason the troops of this “Federated Commonwealth” weren’t firing on the Tigers was the space battle currently going on.  Meanwhile the Tigers were getting confused orders and requests from the ground.  The issue of who was in charge seemed up in the air.  The Duke of Tamar Selvin Kelswa (Never mind the name didn’t match the database.)  was issuing grandiose proclamations demanding the 90th wipe out these foul invaders.

Saner requests came from Marshal Joy Corelli of the 26th Lyran Guards so that was what the Terrans were listening to.  And then there was ComStar.  The “Robes” as everyone was calling them had tried to contact them multiple times.  After the first abortive conversation with the guys running (So they said.) interstellar communications the Tiger commtechs had put them on hold.

And then there is me, just had to run off with your boy toy on a milk run mission, didn’t you Liz.  

At least Scott’s company commander had offered her use of one of the Tiger’s spares on the trip.  So once again Liz Hazen was going into battle in a ‘Mech.  And once again her life had taken a strange twist.

“Liz we’re hitting the face in ten minutes, you up?” Major Gilmour’s voice crackled over the TACNET.

“Gotcha B, ready when you are.”  Feeling the power of her new machine around her, Liz grinned savagely.

It’s been too long.


Colonel Sam Winter felt the change in the vibrations rocking the Sledge Hammer as she descended into Tamar’s atmosphere.  The Wolves, stymied by the space battle had drawn back under the cover of a massive Sovetskii Soyuz heavy cruiser.  As the huge ship maneuvered for the planet, the Tiger’s own fleet had fallen back to defend the stricken Tiger Claw.  The Claw’s Essex class escorts were also damaged although still battle worthy, but until repairs could be made to the Claw, they simply didn’t have the firepower to challenge the Wolves.

The invaders would come, and the Tigers would resist them.  But the question of who they were lay still open.  The Wolves’ commander had contacted Marshal Corelli politely enough.  In an almost businesslike manner this Khan Natasha Kerensky had announced her intention to add Tamar to the possessions of Clan Wolf.  The opposing commander had then asked if the Black Tigers of New Vandenburg would be joining the party.

When Marshal Corelli had, having already spoken with Sam, told her yes the Khan had laughed.  â€œFine, I will look forward to testing the mettle of Terra’s finest.”  Sam didn’t know if the woman was insane or merely stupid, but she’d gone on to give Corelli a full list of her forces.

It’s almost like a game to them.  Sam thought.  And the order of battle, the names of the units.  Sam still couldn’t belive it was coincidence.  The 328th Assault Cluster, the “Lion Hearted”, sounded like the Royal BattleMech Division of the same name.

And then there is the date…3051?  What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?

“They’re grounding now.”  Scott said over the TACNET.  â€œBoss, I…”

“Yeah ‘Rat, I know, I heard.”  I answered hoping he couldn’t hear the nervousness in my voice.

3051, are you ****** kidding me?  I didn’t want to think about it, but my mind kept returning to what I saw and heard around me.   If it was true…Gods damn it…Sarah, Syn.

Shaking my head to clear it I gave the order to move out.  Around me the Black Cats’ ‘Mechs began to rumble forward.  We had orders to anchor the Tiger right where we met up with a combat command of the 26th Lyran Guard.  Our air support was busy carving up theirs, for whatever reason that big ****** cruiser was staying out of it.  Ever one to take small favors, Jake Melendez and his crew were working with the Lyrans to keep air superiority in our hands.

If these puppies had ‘mechs anything like their fighters we were in for a tough fight.  According to Geoff Winger; the Guards Hauptmann commanding the mixed company on my right they did, and some kind of super power armor too boot.  No armor though so the combined arms nature of both us and the 26th should balance that out.

The crash and thunder of battle sounded from up ahead.  The Lyran...FedCom positions (Whatever) were well sited and dialed in to our frequencies.  A wave of Copperhead shells ripped across the sky with a tearing sound.  I said a prayer to Athena to keep Didi and our Nighthawk teams safe as they TAGged and bagged the Wolves.

Fire support calls were coming in fast and hot now as both our Long Tom and Chaparral batteries along with those of the Lyrans spoke thunder.  My secondary screens showed the unfamiliar Clan designs and their squat battle armor flowing forward under murderous fire.  This Kerensky was going for the gusto hoping to overwhelm us.  The Lyrans were not having it, good troops although I felt an odd twinge when I thought of them.

Like we’d met before and it hadn’t been pretty.

Hauptmann Geoff Winger came over the open channel then, reporting a breach with calm urgency.

“Boot Four Six, this is Cat Six were on the way.”

“Roger; Cat Six glad for the help.”

Suddenly Hussy threw herself to her left as a pair blinding cyan laser bolts flashed by.  The other ‘Mech, the ones everyone called a MadCat, looking like a Catapult with a Marauder’s arms bolted on tried to track me and I threw him a gauss slug for his troubles.  I couldn’t waste time wondering why Hussy seemed to move with such fluid grace as the MadCat sent a wave of anti armor missiles my way.

Waiting for the gauss rifle to cycle I spat two streams of charged particles at the Clan machine.  One found a flaw in the Wolf ‘Mech’s armor where the gauss slug had hit and his heat spiked.  Undaunted the Clan warrior struck back with his full complement of energy weapons.  Red telltales began to show as a heat sink blew out.

“Boss these guys are serious", Gracie shouted, "Tina’s down, those power suits crippled her before we could shoot ‘em off.”

Okay ******, this ends now.  Ducking to the right I stopped suddenly.  Bracing I sent Hussy’s full complement of firepower downrange.  The MadCat caught in the middle of overshooting her angle of attack took everything I had right in what had to be the engine casing.  Golden fire spat out the hole for a brief moment.  Then the ‘Mech crashed to the ground.

The Clanner must have been knocked out because she didn’t eject.  I spotted Didi’s team nearby and made a snap decision.

“Didi, get me that pilot if she’s still alive.”


‘Tasha sent a wave of laser fire at the Pillager facing her.  Rearing back the black and red ‘Mech spat gauss slugs back at her.  The Wolf Khan was getting the worst of the engagement having already fought through the storm of artillery fire the defenders of Tamar had greeted her Wolves with.  Instead of pushing through the defenders on a wide sweeping front the two forces were now grinding each other in a war of attrition.

One that no longer favors us.  She thought.  Her 279th Battle Cluster had managed a breach with its Trinary First, but no word had come after the initial call from the Whirlwinds.  Engaging the full scale Star League assault battalion in front of her she hadn’t time to check on them but when Star Commander Lonna’s battered Adder staggered out of the woods she knew what had happened.

A black and red Marauder stalked out of the woods and pointed a claw at Lonna’s Adder.  Slashing a whip of charged particles across the Adder’s flank the Marauder sent Lonna’s ‘Mech down.  Lara Ward spun her Warhawk to send four particle streams back at the Terran machine.

The Marauder dodged.

Before Natasha could get over her astonishment a second machine, unfamiliar to both her and her warbook program stepped up next to the first machine and loosed a volley of missile fire and laser bolts at the Wolf assault machine.  More heavy ‘Mechs arrived, a mix of Marauders and Bombardiers volleying wave after wave of fire.

Spitting more laser fire at the Pillager she crowed inwardly as it fell backward.  It was then the ground split open around her.  A roar of fighter engines thundered past and she saw a squadron of Hammerheads vanish into the clouds.  One was slashed down by a wave of missiles, but the others were no doubt heading back to rearm.

Time to try something else; this definitely isn’t going to work.


Star Captain Katya Kerensky woke with a jerk.  Looking around she saw she was in a mobile field hospital.  It was the symbol on the uniforms of both the doctors and many of the wounded that told her she'd lost.  The Cameron Star.  A lean form rose from the side of one of the wounded.  Through a drug hazed fog she noticed the crossed pistols on his lapel.  The warrior’s single good eye narrowed as he saw her.

“Doc, my guest is up!”  He called.  Katya realized this had been the man who had defeated her.  As the haze from the pain killers deepened she smiled wryly at the only thought to pop in her head.

If I had to be shot out of my ‘Mech by some saavishri sphereoid, at least it was a Gunslinger.


Joy Corelli, Marshal in the service of the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth, shook her head in disgust.  Nothing she had done had gotten Selvin Kelswa to even acknowledge her presence let alone come out of his impenetrable fortress.  It had take the arrival of an honest to God Star League Defense Force unit to pry the intractable bastard out of his city.

Then again if that doesn’t get your attention, nothing will. She thought in amazement.

  Along one wall of her command hut the command staff of the 90th Heavy Assault stood in combat fatigues or in the case of their Gunslinger an advanced MechWarrior combat suit.  Almost as unbelievable as their presence was the slim woman with white blonde hair and icy blue eyes; dressed in a SLDF jumpsuit.

The woman was a Wolf Clan officer.  Despite sparse intelligence to the contrary and the appearance of the infamous Black Widow; Natasha Kerensky among the invaders; theories still abounded that they were aliens.  Well the Tigers’ prisoner belied that.  The woman stayed close to Major Gilmour, not out of fear so much as self preservation.  Around her wrist was a bracelet braided out of what appeared to be three different colored rubber bands.

The report she received from her new allies said the Clans called captured warriors bondsmen.  If they showed promise doing the tasks their new masters set for them they would eventually be accepted into the Clan.  Joy didn’t know if she believed it or not, but the woman’s captor had for some reason decided to honor the Wolf Clan custom.

When the Duke had swept in he’d tried to seize the woman, but her captor had gotten right in the Duke’s face and to Joy’s surprise backed the man down.  She had to hide her smile as she thought of Major Gilmour’s response;

You want one, your Grace; go get your own.

Cheese warning, I am not above cheezyness for the sake of humor.  

Selvin Kelswa’s voice snarled out another series of questions.  The Blonde Clanswoman ignored him and stared stoically ahead.  The Duke swallowed his anger and turned to the Star League MechWarrior.

“Major, would you kindly instruct you charge to answer my questions.”  The long haired young officer gave a slight bow.  Turning to his charge he spoke in low tones.

“Aff, Major, I will answer, and my name is Katya Kerensky not Kitty Kat.”  The woman answered.

She turned to the assemblage and began to speak.

“In answer to your question, Duke Selvin; who are we?  We are the Star League Defense Force.”

After the shocked gasps and angry denials had died down under Marshal Corelli’s orders, Katya Kerensky told the tale reciting from a poem she called the Remembrance.  She told the tale of the SLDF’s flight from the Inner Sphere, the settling of a series of poor worlds far from the strife of the Succession Wars.  Then she told of the war that followed, when the SLDF tore itself apart.  In the end it all came out.

“So you’re here to restore the Star League then.”  Kelswa said in wonder.

“Aff Duke Selvin, which ever Clan reaches Terra shall be declared the ilClan and will rule over a reborn Star League.”
The meeting went downhill from there Joy thought later.  What convinced her to end the meeting was the Duke accusing the Tigers of being Clan collaborators.  Major Gilmour had to be restrained from decking the noble.  Surprisingly his “Bondswoman”, if she was to be believed the direct blood descendant of Aleksandr Kerensky had jumped in front of him and called upon his honor.

Afterwards she sat down with Colonel Winter over a cup of really good coffee the man had brought with him, something called Jamaican Blue Mountain.

“Hell of a day,” The man said.

Joy nodded then unable to resist.  â€œSo you’re really who you say you are?”

Chuckling the Terran Colonel nodded saying; “I know, I’ve had some of my intelligence guys going over the records you sent, plus what little we’ve gotten from the Wolves.”

“You were supposed to have died over Terra.”  Joy said carefully.

“But we didn’t, we liberated New York and chased Amaris’ boys all over North America.  Then when it was all over we served as part of Amanda Cameron’s guard unit.”

“Here Amanda died on Terra, there was no Last Cameron.”  At least that we know of.  Joy thought.

“So not only did we misjump in time and space, but I don’t think were in Kansas anymore.”

Joy chuckled; “If you call me Toto, I’ll slap you in the stockade.”

Smiling wryly Sam sipped his coffee.  Looking up his smile vanished.

“You have to understand our dilemma, Marshal, it doesn’t matter when or where we ended up,”  He fixed her with a despairing gaze, “I know the basics of a misjump, or at least the theory, we were in hyperspace way too long so we ended up here.  But you can only go forwards, not back.”

“You can’t go home.”  Joy stated flatly, barely able to comprehend the magnitude of that simple statement.

“So we’ll fight for you against these Clan barbarians, and we’ll figure out the rest.”  Sam said grimly.

“Then we have a battle to plan…oh by the way, your Major Gilmour, he’s not Bruce Nicolas Gilmour is he?”

“Yes why?”  Sam asked puzzled.

“He had mentioned his wife; her name wasn’t Sarah was it?” Joy smiled warmly.

“Yes; Sarah Elisabeth Davion.”  Sam answered.

“One of you did survive and was captured, and after the liberation of Terra did marry…here.”  She handed Sam a data disk.  â€œThis might give him some closure.”

Sam, glancing over the title on the disk, looked back up eyes wide.

“So he has descendants in this world?”  He asked.

“In a manner of speaking…” Joy said rising.  â€œAnd they want to meet him.”

Katya Kerensky waited as Hussy’s cockpit hatch opened, Major Gilmour handed her his combat neurohelmet as he unstrapped the five point restraints.  While the neurohelmet was familiar, nothing else in the Royal machine was.  Instead of a command couch with joysticks and throttles the Marauder had a cradle that supported the pilot’s rump, back, neck and head.

Legs and arms strapped into a linear frame much like an exoskeleton.  The Terran MechWarriors didn’t so much pilot their machines so much as wear them.  Joysticks and petals tipped the frame members and a holographic hands on throttle and stick set up completed the arrangement.  Almost as an afterthought a folding jump seat was just aft of the linear frame.

“Yeah, I know it’s a lot different than what you’re used to  You sure you've got nothing like this?.”  Bruce said a wry smile on his face.

“Neg we do not, and there are no records of anything like this.”  The question in her voice was obvious.  As the cherry picker lowered itself down to the ground, Bruce stretched and looked at the battle damage scarring the seventy five tonner.

“No I don’t have a clue why your friends don’t have proper Terra tech, maybe the Royals sabotaged the records, or maybe here in this timeline it was never invented.”

“Timeline?”  Katya was puzzled, she was a warrior not a scientist after all.

“Yeah, too many things here don’t add up, we’ve talked about that.”

She nodded, she sometimes wondered why Bruce didn’t talk about this with his own people.  Then again sometimes the Tigers acted like they were made of broken glass.  There was pain there that Katya was ill equipped to deal with.

Bruce was looking at a series of holos on his pocketcomp.  A beautiful red haired woman appeared in most of them along with a little Eurasian girl.  His wife and adopted daughter; Katya knew.  She understood the theory of marriage of course and the lower castes still practiced “natural” child birth, but she had no frame of reference as the warrior who’d shot her out of her ‘Mech and stood against the finest warriors of Clan Wolf shuddered and stifled a sob.

Katya had for some reason put her hand on his shoulder, a gesture of comradely support.  He’d looked up at her then and smiled sadly, a single tear rolling down his cheek.  A Clan warrior should have scoffed at his weakness, but something in Katya responded with sympathy.  Some battles just cannot be won .

Bruce had after a moment motioned to her to sit down.  He’d shared a little of his life with her then.  Pictures and movies of blessed Terra seen just after the Liberation.  Unity City, New York, Tahiti places out of myth and legend all seen by someone who’d lived there.

It had been the pictures of his wedding that had affected her the most, the chestnut haired girl with the heart shaped face who was Sarah Davion’s Maid of Honor.  Amanda Cameron, daughter of Richard.  The alien feel to the history the images and video represented, from a living Cameron heir to a “back yard Fourth of July party” with Aaron DeChevalier in an apron emblazoned with the words “Kiss the Cook” to Elizabeth Hazen sharing a kiss with Lieutenant Mackenzie were a shock.

A shock that the most revered figures in Clan history were as Bruce had put it; “Just Folks.”

Still they remained hideously effective against her former Clan.  After two weeks the battle was stalemated.  Although both sides had taken severe losses, the Battle for Tamar had turned into a war of attrition and the defenders had far deeper reserves than the Wolf Clan.

Something had to give soon.  And strangely she hoped it wouldn’t be the Terrans.  Looking down at the Cameron Star on her shoulder, knowing what it represented, Katya felt strangely at home.  And then there was her bond holder; honorable, strong, skilful, yet broken at the same time.

Perhaps in time she could fix him.  Looking down at the two bond cords remaining on her wrist and at the her own Timber Wolf sitting repaired in the gantry across the way.  He’d promised her a place on the next raid.  Katya wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Trepidation warred with an urge to be recognized as a full warrior again.

Soon you will have to make choices, Katya, important ones.

“Okay, we’re off duty, Misha’s told me you’re doing well… so the gang’s rigged up a clubhouse of some sort.”  He paused, thought for a moment.  â€œUmm…you guys do drink don’t you?”

“Aff…we do and I could use a drink, thank you.”  As they walked past Elizabeth Hazen speaking softly with her technician at the foot of the Tiger heavy BattleMech she piloted, the red haired woman glared harshly at Katya but held her tongue.

Stravvag Falcon. She thought meeting the woman' glare with her own clear blue gaze.  After the pair had left the hanger Katya chuckled.  But then she’s no Falcon, or at least this one isn’t.

“Penny for your thoughts?”  Bruce asked.

“Nothing important, major…” She considered him for a moment.  â€œBruce Gilmour after we have that drink would you like to couple with me?”

Bruce stopped dead and stared at her.  Later thinking about his reaction; which was a polite and cautious negative; she would grin…After all his reaction was priceless.


The Triad, Tharkad
Federated Commonwealth
17 November, 3051
General Nondi Steiner knocked on the door to the Archon's personal office.  At the Archon's bidding she entered.  Melissa Steiner looked up from her desk and smiled warmly.  The younger woman's eyes looked tired.  They all were.  The enormity of the situation threatening the Federated Commonwealth was like nothing anyone could have expected.

"We have the latest reports from Tamar, Mel."  Nondi said.

"From your tone, I take it's actually good news."  Melissa looked hopeful.

"The battle's stalemated, not won but we've done better there than anywhere else, looks like a full; what the Clans call a Galaxy; roughly analogous to a reinforced regiment has been bogged down there.  The 90th Heavy Assault has taken prisoners and we are getting reams of information back..."  Nondi's face took on a grimace then.

"What Aunt Nondi?  I know that look."

"These so called Star League troops won't let us interrogate their prisoners, the LIC agents assigned to Tamar have been allowed to interview the captured Wolves, in some detail, I'll admit but the 90th is retaining custody…something about having honored the Wolves custom of becoming bondsmen."  She looked up at Melissa then.

"Some of them, like this Katya Kerensky have even been allowed to fight against their former comrades."

Melissa's look of shock mirrored Nondi's when she'd first read the news.

"So they fight their own?"  Melissa shook her head.  "Can the Star League Defense Force really have changed so much?  They're so…Alien."

Nondi got a cup of coffee from the side board and at Melissa's nod poured her another.

"Marshal Corelli has said the 90th have pretty much accepted their situation weird as it is and have offered their services to the Commonwealth.  They have a lot to offer, which brings us to two problems."
At the Archon's gesture she continued;

"First, we may not be able to keep Tamar."  Nondi's voice was flat, businesslike, it had to be to quell the anger the statement brought up.  Melissa nodded and Nondi, not without pride for the fine ruler Katrina's daughter had become, knew she had seen it.

"The Wolves and the Jade Falcons have already almost surrounded it, I know…but to pull them out seems so wrong."  Melissa's voice was sad at the thought of any more of her people being under the thumb of a conqueror.

Nondi sipped at her coffee and nodded.

"Ja it is wrong, but we cannot support them for much longer.  If the Clans pass the line of worlds marked here…"  Nondi pulled up a star chart on Melissa's desk.  "We have to pull them out of there or risk losing both units."

Leaning back in her chair, Melissa closed her eyes and nodded.

"Do it, then."  She said.  "And may God forgive us."

"The second problem, is a bit thornier, but I may have a solution…"  Nondi paused her features darkening at the memory of her meeting with Precentor Tharkad.  "ComStar is requesting; as they put it; the repatriation of all Terran nationals and equipment in the unit known as the 90th Heavy Assault Regiment at the earliest opportunity."

"What?!"  Melissa was aghast.

"The Black Tigers scare them, Mel, don’t ask me how I know, but they do."

"Scare them, how?  A few thousand men and women, some advanced hardware and okay three WarShips but…"

"It's not their equipment Archon, it is who they are, while the computer core provided by Colonel Carlyle has all the information we need to catch up to the Star League era, the practical applications will take years to get us up to speed, unless we have help.  The support staff of the 90th alone has the practical knowledge to jump start our armaments programs by years.  Their Chief Technician Misha Vinson has more degrees to his name than I can count and at least two works on Particle weapons on the GDL core were authored by him…Melissa the MechWarrior that has your husband all in a bustle has a degree in fusion technology for God's sakes, learned on the road to Terra during the liberation back in the 2770's!"

As Melissa looked at her aunt in shock, Nondi went on;  "Then there is this; they are Terrans, their databases hold locations and command codes to dozens of bases used by the SLDF Royal Command, including this one…"

"Camelot Command…a Naval base?"

Nondi grinned; "I've sent Cranston Snord to check it out, the little bastard already knew about it, said they were going to try for it anyway, he was the one who sent me the solution to the ComStar problem."  Tapping the touch sensitive hologram Nondi brought up a file.

SLDF Support Command Regulation 11071-3  In the event of a collapse of regular SLDF pay and support channels any Member State requesting aid from or making use of SLDF personnel and or equipment must provide a support structure to maintain…

Melissa chuckled.

"General Steiner, the Lyran Commonwealth is hereby requesting aid from the Star League Defense Force…"

Good to see this back around BTA, I moved it to Parellel Universes as it doesn't follow canon events. 

Headhunting the Black Widow?
 

A lil' Cannonshop action for your enjoyment.

[heee!!! i'm invited!!]
HHC, 2nd Battalion, 26th Lyran Guard, Tamar...

"...SLDF guys are tough as hell..." someone commented.  Hauptmann Patrick Ngo looked up from his letters to see Grimes and Baker watching the officers from the 90th Heavies inventorying ammo pallets.
"Yeah." he said, "They're tough."

One of the foreign officers, looking in that half-idle 'alert' that combat officers get, noticed him sitting at the foot of his 'mech.

The man's expression did a double-take, and he apparently got the attention of his companion.

"Uh-oh, Paddy, looks like they they saw you wrote ******' on your 'mech."  Grimes commented, as the two Terran officers started walking across the quad.

"Yeah, well, they can take it up with the Liason officer, like everyone else." Pat said, and went back to reading-casually, though he watched over the top-rim of his sunglasses as the foreign officers walked over.

"Excuse me..." one of them said.

Pat looked up.  "Sir?" he asked, keeping the relaxed pose, 'If it's about the chest-art, It's in-reg."

"Where are you from, son?"  the taller one asked.

"Kowloon." Patrick said, "Not that I've seen it much."


Twelve Hours Later...

"DIDEE MAOGODDAMMITMOVEMOVEMOVE!!!"  Pat shouted over the Company frequencies as the Clanners' little toad-bastards appeared from the dust-cloud of the spaceport's outer permieter.  He beaded on one of them, and triggered his PPC.   the little bastads could take hits, but...

He pulled up a light-tower from the approach way, and swung it like a bat-sending one jumper tumbling off into the distance.  "Fall back by ranks, lowest to highest, those dropships need time."  he scolded.

voices of assent echoed in his ears, and his status-board showed that most of his Company was moving retrograde, while the view out his cockpit showed they were still firing.

he tongued the frequency for the long-toms on the sole Fortress class still on the ground, "Grid Two One Nine, I need HE and Cluster, my position, Repeat, Repeat, Repeat, Over!"

The status-indicators showed that the tanks weren't falling back in order on his right.  "Charlie Third, Get your ****** asses in GEAR, god-dammit, Mosovich, you dilly-dally and I'll have your-"

his world was white flash, heat, and pain, as something didn't just shred his cockpit armour, but pulverized it into white-hot powder, and then, the cool air of outside wrapped around him.

the 'mech that did this, stepped around from behind the perimeter wall.  Hunched and turkey-looking, with a Marauder's arm-joints and shoulders under the box-launchers of a Catapult and a glassine cockpit jutting from the thing's chest.

His leg-actuators were seizing on the left side...not NOW not NOW...  the thing's secondary 'chin mount' weapons licked fragments from his staggered 'mech.

"Okay, ******..." he lifted his improvised club, looked at the cracked and barely working heat-guage, and shrugged.  "I got something you can't do"  He stomped his jump-pedals, bounding forward at the enemy 'mech.  the artillery warning alarms sounded as the snap-crack of enemy fire echoed in his ears.

At the ending arc of the 150 meter leap, he brought the club down, and cut his jump-jets' retrofire, bringing the entire mass of his machine down as additional leverage and power.

This move took whoever was driving the MadCat by surprise-the ELED light-arrays shatttered off the thick, high-intensity alloy post, which drove down on the Clanner's ferroglas cockpit, shearing off support struts and pulverizing panes of transparent armour.

The world turned white, and he felt the thunderclaps into his bones, as the battery-strike came down.

something lanced through his chest....and it was even harder to breathe in the darkness...


Fourteen minutes after...

"...dead, we got here late."  The AFFC firebase had been right on the edge of the 90ths' area of responsibility, and the Tigers were the first unit to react to the Clanner probe.

Truk Tranh  squatted on the edge of what was probably the head assembly of a Griffin.  He reached into the mess in the cockpit, and retrieved a set of tags.

"Patrick  Ngo.  Catholic, Blood Type B Negative." he read off, "There won't be any celebrating back home from this."

"You sure it's him?" Kelso asked.

"You saw him, same as I did....there can't be too many Hauptmanns named Ngo around here." Truk said it without emotion, "and none of them would probably call in artillery on their own position to cover their men." he looked at Kelso.  "It's him.  We gotta send him home."  Truk started cutting straps, and gingerly extracted the shattered, burnt corpse from the cockpit, laying it out on a poncho-liner, "Get the goddamned Chaplain, right ****** now." he said it without looking up.

"Truk, they're probably coming back..."

"I don't care, get a ******' Chaplain, last rites..."

I am completely lost here