“Are you sure this is what we should be doing? I heard that neither the First Lord or Kerensky want to see nukes going off on the surface like firecrackers?†Reuben asked Antonius Zalman and his two hefty henchmen as they relaxed on sofa seats and gobbled up popcorn. A massive wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling video screen was showing an infrared projection of a two hundred mile area surrounding the tunnel exit.
“Reuben, come now,†Antonius answered smoothly. “Have they given any specific orders to us to that effect?â€
“We haven’t been given instructions other than to sit tight!â€
“Exactly. Special Intelligence is mandated to do whatever it takes to protect the Realm, Reuben. Even if that entails doing things that the First Lord Stephen Cameron or General the Lord Regent Kerensky don’t want done. Ah, it has begun. Penny dear?â€
“Yes, Antonius?â€
“Armed the weapons, please.â€
“Armed and ready: can we kill some Amaris pigs now? Can we? Please?â€
“Of course, my dear. You may send the command when ready.â€
On the screen, five star-bright flares erupted in the center of Rim formations just beginning to pull out of their defensive fortifications and redeploy to meet the Star League penetration into their perimeter.
Penny gave a squeal—one that sounded remarkably close to an orgasm.
“I’d offer you a smoke, Penny, girl, but I am afraid of where you would tell me to stick it.â€
“Rim casualties are projected as heavy,†the AI purred. “Civilians in the blast radius: zero. Or as close to zero as I can compute. And was it good for you as well, old man?â€
“Ah, Penny, my love. It was glorious.â€
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“Why are my SDS guns not firing on them!†Stefan Amaris shouted, as hundreds upon hundreds of additional DropShips began to land in a perimeter surrounding Unity City.
The staff blanched, but finally, one tech stood. “Sire, we have lost communication with all of the SDS facilities. There are unconfirmed reports of gunfire between the IntSec guards and an unknown force within each base.â€
Stefan’s jaw worked and his face flushed a deeper shade of red. “OUT! All of you useless failures GET OUT!†he screamed.
Quickly, the grateful staff hurried from the room, leaving only Gunthar and Stefan. “Can we still get to the submersible, Gunthar?â€
“No, sire. They are landing just outside the shipyards—we would never get through.â€
Stefan nodded. “In that case, Colonel von Strang, I want you to take the 18th Chasseurs—your Death’s Head Regiment—and do what you can to hold them back. I have some final preparations to make to greet the First Lord of the Star League. Kerensky and Kurita as well.â€
Gunthar bowed lowed. “I have failed you, my Lord.â€
“Oh, Gunthar. You, my right arm, have never failed me. Perhaps we moved too quickly, we might should have waited another decade or so for the rot to set in. Still,†the Emperor mused. “If we had killed Stephen Cameron at the start of this, if he had died with his family here. Perhaps we might have won anyway. It was fate, Gunthar. But there remains one possibility that I might serve to free the peoples of the Inner Sphere from this yoke of the Star League. Now go, old friend. I must make myself ready to greet Stephen Cameron.â€
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The noose of ‘Mech and myomers, of blood and steel, that the Star League and its member states drew close around the capital city. And then it began to tighten.
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“My lord Kurita,†the radio crackled. “Another unit is moving to intercept the Black Watch. Radio intercepts indicate it is the 18th Amaris Chasseurs—and voice ID confirms von Strang is in command.â€
So, the man whose hands had killed Drago and his family, the man who had spilt Kurita blood was here. Minoru closed his eyes and forced himself to remain calm. “All units are to disengage. Otomo—FOLLOW ME.â€
Ahead of his Dragon, Minoru could just make out the faint shapes of the ash-gray Death’s Head regiment, each ‘Mech painted with a grinning skull. Although known as Chasseurs, the 18th was no light regiment—it was comprised almost completely of heavy- and assault-class machines. And the bone-white Atlas that led them was von Strang’s own ‘Mech. Minoru brought his lighter Dragon to a halt, and the Otomo formed up around him, the rest of the Kurita division fanning out behind him.
“Gunthar von Strang,†he broadcast. “I am Minoru Kurita. I give you the opportunity to surrender now and pay for your crimes with your life.â€
“My life you will have to earn the hard way, Dragon.â€
“So be it, von Strang. For my kin, killed by your hand in the Court of the Star League; for my SONS who died at the bequest of your master on Saffel and Luthien; for the citizens of the Combine whom you and yours have slaughtered with cowardly attacks from hiding; I shall have you! I SHALL END YOU! SAMURAI OF THE COMBINE—BANZAI!â€
And the Kuritans—all ten regiments of them—charged as though they were men possessed.
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Nearly one thousand BattleMechs charged down upon the outnumbered Chasseurs. However, except for a handful of assault designs such as the BattleMaster piloted by Vincent Kurita, the Combine’s ‘Mechs were very light compared to the Royal ‘Mechs of the Chasseurs.
Gunthar and his men piloted. And despite the difference in firepower and armor, the samurai followed their leader in that fierce charge. Missile flights were launched, autocannon bursts roared out, laser beams slashed through the air, followed by high-powered bolts screaming downrange from the barrels of PPCs.
‘Mechs on both sides of the lines exploded under the impact of these weapons, but now the Chasseurs too charged forward, and both lines collided. And in the center of that fight, Gunthar von Strang and Minoru Kurita squared off.
*****************************************************
Minoru hammered his opponent, heavier by forty tons of armor and weapons, and he danced lightly around the assault class machine. His autocannon cratered armor, his missiles dug out divots, his lasers burned through plate after plate—but it wasn’t enough. The Atlas had been designed for exactly this type of a fight, and its thick armor was nearly as heavy as an entire Locust. Gunthar’s missiles, more than twice as many, ripped through the air in reply, along with his lasers, and then his mighty autocannon—four times as powerful as Minoru’s barked in staccato succession. And the Dragon crumpled as the heavy slugs tore into one hip.
The Otomo rushed to get to their lord’s side, but the Death’s Head Chasseurs held them back for precious seconds, even as Vincent Kurita pushed his BattleMaster’s engine beyond the red line. Gunthar von Strang walked over above the shattered ‘Mech that held the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine and he raised his foot high—and then Minoru rolled his Dragon to one knee, grabbed that massive foot with his sole hand actuator, and pushed with all the might of his myomer muscles!
The mighty Atlas toppled backwards, and the Dragon rose, even as Gunthar tried to shake the impact from his foggy brain. Minoru leveled the right arm autocannon directly over the cockpit, and he held the trigger down tight. Sparks flew as the armor deflected the first shell, and then the second, but as the stream continued on and on and the barrel began to glow white from the heat, the rounds finally penetrated, tearing through the grinning skull and burying themselves in the soil beneath it. The Otomo and Vincent finally broke through the last of the defenders, but there too late, for a second before his own death, a Chasseur Victor swiveled and fired his own massive autocannon directly into the cockpit of the Coordinator.
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“MINORU!†Vincent Kurita screamed as the Dragon’s cockpit exploded. He pushed forward, straining the massive 85-ton war machine as it reached speeds the designers had never intended. Ignoring the heat spike, he fired every weapon, from the Donal PPC in the right arm to the banks of massed medium lasers, the short-range missile launcher, the twin machine-guns, and then Vincent lowered his shoulder and slammed into the Victor, knocking it down and running it over. He turned, but his foe was dead.
Slowly, the Otomo gathered around the fallen Dragon, and silence reigned over the battlefield. Six of the Coordinator’s guards slowly lifted the fallen ‘Mech, resting it on their shoulders, and began the long march back to their DropShip, a DropShip that would return a fallen Coordinator home to battered Luthien.
The rest of the survivor’s—all of the survivor’s of the Sword of Light and the Otomo—stood silent as the tomb of their Lord marched past. And then Vincent opened his radio channels. “We will mourn our fallen later; we shall mourn the passing of the Dragon when this is finished! Samurai! We have a date with destiny.â€
And following their new Dragon—not young, no, but wise and experienced—the samurai of the Combine began to march once more on Unity City.