Ulric traced a finger along the ridgeline. "If they meet resistance, it will be this far out. They will hit them when Ax Star is halfway up the hill. Give them a flyover high, then have the wing come back and pull a strafing run along the line. While they are doing that, Ax Star will have to move fast and get up the hill. Is Hatchet Star still ahead of Ax?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Let Star Commander Phelan and Star Commander Fetladral both hit that line just after the strafing. Hatchet should be in first to cause confusion—hit-and-run stuff—to soften them up. Tell Star Colonel Kerensky to bring the rest of the Cluster up fast. Have this go off in ten minutes."
"Yes, sir."
As the aide left, Ulric cupped his chin in his right hand and stroked his goatee. "Make sure your first shot is the best, Anastasius. If Natasha gets through you there, Skupo is mine."
* * *
Anastasius Focht refused to surrender to fatigue. In his artificial world, he stood atop the ridgeline at Skupo and saw the Star of five 'Mechs waiting at the base of the hill. Back beyond that Star, the rest of the Cluster was slowly moving up. Even without the magnification granted him by the computer, he would have recognized the unique shape of the Wolfhoundleading the forward element, and the night-black Daishiin command of the rest of them.
"This is the real stupidity of war, isn't it? I know how good you are, Phelan Wolf and Natasha Kerensky. I have read all the reports on your Wolf Spiders and I know that even though we outnumber you almost three to one, you can defeat us. Even so, even though it will cost me men and machines, I am forced to oppose you."
He opened a radio channel to Precentor IV Krag Jernberg. "Precentor Jernberg, your 138th Division is facing the Thirteenth Wolf Guards."
Jernberg's voice displayed no emotion. "Bandit's Bane will hold, Precentor Martial."
"This I trust, Precentor. Remember that surprise is your advantage. While you are dug in and shielded, they can guess where you are, but they cannot know. Be aware, however, that this unit is very good. If you must fall back, you will not dishonor yourself."
"We will hold."
"Very well." Focht found words sticking in his throat. Yes, the stupidity of war."If you eliminate the Wolfhoundand the Daishi,you will seriously hamper the unit's performance."
"Consider them dead," Jernberg's voice rattled.
* * *
"Switching HUD to ground mode. Quarrel Flight form up on me." Carew punched a button on his command console and shifted the combat display from air-to-air to air-to-ground mode. The 160-degree holographic display of the battlefield cycled through visible light, magnetic resonance, and infrared scanning but detected nothing on top of the ridge. I know they're there, but where?
"Quarrel Leader, Three and Four are negative. They must be shielded."
"Roger, Trey." Carew flicked the Visigoth'sjoystick flight controller to the right to begin a long, looping turn. All negative, but there has to be a way. Phelan is down there sweating LRMs and I cannot find the guys waiting for him. This place looks virgin. Wait!
Carew punched orders into his computer. It replayed the look-down radar scan of the ridgeline, then superimposed Royal Rasalhague Geographical Society topographical data on top of it. Right along the ridgeline, he saw a moiré pattern where the current lay of the land differed from the recent RRGS survey of the planet.
Carew ordered the computer to further refine the scan discrepancy and paint it with colors, depending on the degree of difference between the two data sets. Those people down there dug great fortifications to baffle us, but they did not have the equipment to make this a perfect replica of what it was before they did their work.
The picture redefined itself according to his command and revealed a saw-toothed line traced with green along the top of the ridge. "Yes!" He keyed his radio to his flight and downloaded his plot of the trench. "On me. Hit them with everything you have got going in and coming out. We only get one shot at this, so let us give our mudbug buddies some help."
He punched up the ground command frequency. "Ax One, Hatchet One, this is Quarrel One. We have a target. Keep your heads down. We'll do the work, you pick up the pieces."
* * *
Phelan started his Wolfhoundsprinting up the hill as the quartet of Visigothscame in on their strafing run. Hundreds of rockets shot from the fighters, riding smoke-trails straight down to the hilltop. Like a string of firecrackers, the missiles exploded in sequence, blasting the lip of the hill away. Fireballs sprouted like great pumpkins, then collapsed into greasy black smoke-stains against the sky.
Phelan felt the ground shake with the missile barrages, but pressed on as fast as he could..From behind the smoky curtain rising above him, he saw the searing blue highlights of PPC beams stabbing down into the enemy position. Occasionally the blood-red of a laser bolt flashed through the sky, but Phelan could not see if they hit their intended targets.
He did note, with grim satisfaction, that no one from the ComStar position returned fire against the fighters. Maybe they got them all!Much as he wanted that to be true, he knew it was not. As his Wolfhoundpassed the halfway point going up the hill, he braced himself to face whatever ComStar was about to throw at him.
* * *
Precentor Krag Jernberg shook his head to clear it, then looked out through the cracked canopy of his Exterminator.He brought the massive 'Mech upright and used its hands to shred the last of the sensor canopy that had overlaid his position. Through the smoke and tattered canopy, he saw the dead and wounded left by the strafing run, but instantly put them out of his mind.
"By the Holy Word of Blake! Have at them!"
* * *
Stepping his Exterminatorforward, Jernberg found the trench's breastwork had been torn apart. With the trench wall covering his 'Mech only from the thighs down, he felt half-naked. Still, as he brought his 'Mech's arms up and his crosshairs centered on the charging Wolfhound'schest, he felt invincible.
"For Blake!" he shouted. "For the Primus! We will hold!"
As Evantha Fetladral dug her way clear of the mound of earth deposited on her by the strafing run, a status report on the Elementals of Hatchet Star scrolled down the left side of her armor's viewplate. Even though her Star had been strung out below the lip of the hill, it looked as if no one had perished because of friendly fire. Good crew. Willing to get in close.
"Hit them hard, Hatchets. Use your missiles on the 'Mechs, then concentrate on any missile batteries they have. Point commanders, coordinate."
A black veil of smoke curled down over her, then dissipated to reveal a ComStar 'Mech stepping up to a u-shaped divot in his rampart. The Exterminator,all white except for the golden star emblazoning its chest, would have looked beautiful except for where the armor had been blasted off the right side of its chest. From the way the melted armor curled up away from the endo-steel skeleton, Evantha knew a PPC had expanded on damage done by the LRM barrage that hit the ComStar position.
Evantha pointed her nose in the direction of the 'Mech as the war machine brought its arms up. She felt a sharp tug on her shoulders as she launched both of her SRMs from the backpack. As they shot forward on jets of flame, she immediately jettisoned the useless launcher.
Out the corner of her eye, she saw the missiles hit, but already her attention had shifted elsewhere. With her Point at her back, Evantha Fetladral advanced to sow yet more havoc in the trenches.