L. J. snapped off another volley. Damn, this is becoming a meat-grinding attrition fight. That’s not why I’m here.

“Captain, town is empty except for a gray-haired old lady who waved a Bible at me and lectured me on the evils of my life,” Sergeant Tanuso reported.

“You shoot her?” Godfrey asked. The sergeant would have.

“I asked her for a date Friday night,” Topkick shot back. “A woman with fire like that is worth more than the gilded cats you hang with any night. I see you need some help, Sergeant,” the topkick finished, taking skin off Godfrey with that observation.

“I am in a bigger hole than usual,” Godfrey admitted.

“I’ve warned you that fooling with married women could leave you walking home. Have a mind to leave you right here.”

“Would make it hard to catch the JumpShip at recall.”

“Would cost you some stripes,” the topkick said as he brought his hoverbike to a stop at the rim of the gully that had eaten the hovertank.

L. J. cut off the banter. “Topkick, help our darling gift to femininity while Webrunner and I keep the locals busy.”

“You do that, sir, and I’ll see what we can do here.”

L. J. turned back to the battle. His problems were now farther up the hills. Normally a stern chase was a long chase, and while his BattleMech could easily outrun IndustrialMechs, these folks did know the territory. Then again, they were tasting battle for the first time and the hills were cut with gullies. Maybe he could cannibalize this bunch if they weren’t careful how they retreated. “Webrunner, you’ve got the left pretty much in reverse. I want you to edge over toward me. Let’s see if there’s a way to cut off that minigun.”

“Will do, Captain.”

Grace was in reverse. Reverse was all in a day’s work for a miner, but for a fighter, it was hardly the road to success.

The rifle crews fled up the ridge, having learned to dash from one clump of cover to another. Even the slow learners caught on after they got shards of rocket in their backsides. Dan was being more careful now as his ’Mech picked its way from cover to cover. For a bloody disaster, it didn’t look too bad. Winning hadn’t been on Grace’s mind for a couple of hours.

Grace put Pirate’s engine in the red as she charged from a rock outcropping to a dry wash behind a knoll with a struggling evergreen perched on it. The engine screamed, but she got all the horsepower Pirate’s builder had put in him, as well as the extra Mick had souped him up to. She fired a burst at the short ugly BattleMech—more to let it know someone was still fighting than to issue any kind of a challenge. She got a lot of rockets for her effort. One shredded the tree, showering her with burning splinters. Rich with turpentine, some stuck to Pirate as they burned, and Grace worked the edge of her drill bit to brush the bigger chips off. When the next salvo was aimed at Dan, she zigzag-jogged to a large boulder. She saved her ammo this run and hoped the damn cuss in the valley would ignore her.

Then it came to her. Except for the terror of possibly being blown to bits in the next second, fighting was just grunt work—harder than any day mining, even breaking ground for a new shaft. She offered a silent prayer: Just let me get out of here and I’ll leave this to the Knights of The Republic and all the other nuts who like it.

“Uh, Gracie, I think we have a problem. Look at the Wilsons,” Dan said, his voice straining over the radio. That team had also been retreating up the ridge. They were still running, but edging south as well. The taller BattleMech was now almost even with Grace. Maybe that meant nothing. Then again, only MacGilly’s Gulch stood between Grace and the hunter. Of course, that gulch was plenty deep. Not the kind of thing you jumped… Unless you could jump like that thing in the valley had.

And why else put wings on the taller BattleMech? Oh, damn! It gave the Wilsons a short laser burst. Another miss. Then it paused. “What’s it doing?” Dan asked after he made a short move from one boulder to another higher up.

Grace studied the taller ’Mech, then glanced at the shorter one below her. It had been quiet for a while. Low on ammo? What else could make one of those killing machines slow down?

“Cooling?” she guessed.

“Cooling what? Speaking of cooling, I could sure use a cool one about now.”

“Cooling themselves, maybe before they do something that will really heat them up,” Grace said, not liking the sound of her words. “BattleMechs can overheat. You’ve seen it in the vids. Why do you think you’re carrying that field burner?”

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

“Get a move on. God only knows what they’re gonna do next, and She ain’t exactly talking to me these days.” Grace slammed the throttle forward, broke cover, and headed for a fold in the ridge that would hide her from both ’Mechs. She fired off a burst at the tall ’Mech across from her, but it fell short.

Grace was back to cover before anything new came her way. It wasn’t her imagination—both ’Mechs were facing her now. Grace broke cover, maxing out Pirate, galloping for a boulder. She checked; her rifles were well up the ridge. Not being attacked made them bolder runners. McCallester’s and Brady’s ’Mechs were way out ahead of their folks, but all were out of range of the two BattleMechs still herding Grace like sheepdogs.

Well, Falkirk wasn’t burning, she had accomplished that much. Now, if she could just get out of this alive.

Halfway to another fold in the ridge, Grace spotted glare out of the corner of her eye. The taller ’Mech was up in the air, now falling to a landing on her side of MacGilly’s Gulch. The other ’Mech was racing toward her, quickly cutting in half the distance Grace had managed to put between them. Grace paused, caught the descending ’Mech in the sights of her Gatling gun, and fired. A few rounds sparked fire as they ricocheted off, but they didn’t even slow the BattleMech’s flight.

The running BattleMech lofted a barrage of rockets her way.

Grace slammed Pirate’s throttle forward, but she hadn’t taken two steps before rockets smacked down around her. At least two hit Pirate, bouncing Grace’s head off the side of the cockpit. Her vision grayed, and the ringing in her ears didn’t cover the screaming of gyros as they struggled to keep her upright. She tried a step forward. No go. A plate of Mick’s armor was off and wedged between Pirate’s middle and the ground. Grace activated her drill and applied it to the dangling slab as she staggered left.

Rocks sizzled as a laser slashed through where she’d just been.

Below her the ugly BattleMech disappeared in the smoke of another salvo. Grace twisted in place, still working on the armor, then staggered back as another pair of rockets struck Pirate. One spent itself on the busted plate, the other smashed her drill, but also knocked the dangling plate free.

A stream of fire flew high over Grace’s head. Dan had turned back and was taking on the taller ’Mech. The fire fell short, burning only some heather. A moment later Dan sent fire down the hill at the shorter, ugly BattleMech.

At least the smoke hid Grace as she nursed Pirate to an outcropping. Half his instruments were dead. Two cylinders weren’t firing, and the engine gauges were a horror. Her Gatling gun hadn’t been much good, and now Pirate couldn’t move quickly. “Dan, pull back,” Grace shouted on circuit. “I’ll cover you.”

“Gracie, I can’t leave you.”

“You stay here and they grab two ’Mechs. You go and they get maybe one. I’ll cover you and then bust out of Pirate and run for it. They’re after the ’Mech. They won’t waste time on me.”

“If you keep covering us, when will you bust out?”

“Soon, if you move it.”

“I’m pulling back, Grace, but I don’t like this.” Dan shot off two more rivers of fire, one toward each BattleMech, then disappeared in a shallow draw only to reappear as his AgroMech hotfooted it from one bit of cover to another.