He glanced back over his shoulder at the black curtain of smoke that had risen to hide the sun. These are no Periphery bandits, that's for sure. I don't know what they are, but if they decide to take every world in the Inner Sphere, who can stop them?

17

Trell I

Tamar March, Lyran Commonwealth

13 April 3050

Kommandant Victor Steiner-Davion ducked his Victorand sidled it left through the subterranean lagoon as the raider 'Mech stabbed its left weapons pod at him. The Marauder-type pod spat the artificial lightning of a particle projection cannon. The azure bolt sizzled over the Victor'sright shoulder, drilled into a massive icicle clinging to the cavern ceiling, and split it with a thundercrack.

Despite the frost covering his Mech's viewplate, the intense blue of the energy weapon lit his cockpit like a strobe. Concentrating on the computer-created landscape of magscan data, Victor dropped his autocannon's gold crosshairs onto the enemy 'Mech's outline and punched the trigger button with his thumb. There was a loud scream like that of some mechanical banshee, and then Victor saw his volley hit its target.

The storm of depleted uranium shells again burrowed into the raider's left shoulder, pulverizing what little armor remained over the joint, then stripping the myomer muscles from the ferro-titanium bones. The bones themselves bent, twisted, and then finally snapped under the savage assault. The arm flew away, pulling taut the ammo chain to the autocannon, then popping it apart and continuing on its cartwheeling flight.

Victor grinned as his computer assessed the damage to his enemy. When he'd first encountered the unusual 'Mech, the computer had tried to tag it as a Warhammer,then as a Marauder,and then as a Victor.Realizing he'd never seen its like before, Victor commanded the computer to record all the data on the machine under the name "Thor," which he chose because the 'Mech had a heavy autocannon in one arm and a PPC in the other. Thunder and lightning ... just the stuff the god Thor used to toss about.

The Thorswung its PPC arm in Victor's direction, but never managed a shot. Sending two flights of SRMs from the leg-mounted launchers of his Crusader,Galen Cox pummeled the Thor'sarm. SRM explosions blasted shards of armor deeper into the dim cave, and more important, knocked the gunnery pod wide of its target. Once again, the raider's PPC shot missed the Victor.It vaporized another icicle, but the cavern's bitter cold converted the mist into snow, which fell into the steaming lagoon.

Thanks, Galen. I owe you.Victor tracked the off-balance Thoras it tried to withdraw. Cutting to the left, it slammed into a huge stalagmite and bounced back while the megalith slowly tottered, then fell. As the Thordrifted involuntarily into Victor's sights, he triggered his autocannon. The weapon's whine filled the cockpit, and heat levels in the cramped quarters increased, drenching Victor in another layer of sweat.

The autocannon slugs ripped a scar down the Thor'sleft thigh, then lanced sparks from its knees. Shrapnel peppered the water and some of the shells, having blown entirely through the joint, skipped off the water, and ricocheted deeper into the Thunder Rift complex of caverns. The Thor'sknee buckled, then twisted and locked again. Metal fused with metal, keeping the 'Mech upright, but reducing the knee to a solid, immobile joint.

"Kommandant, we have trouble." Galen kept his voice calm, but Victor heard the urgency in his voice. "I mark two more of these Thorsand two of what I'm calling Loki—'cause of its utterly mad configuration—in the Antechamber. It looks as if these Jade Falcons work in configurations of five, not lances of four like we do. I would suggest his lancemates are on the way."

"Roger, Galen." Victor glanced at his sector scan. These new 'Mechs mean Galen and I are cut off from our rendezvous with the battalion in this direction. We'll have to backtrack through the Smugglers' Stroll to the Dragon's Lair."We could have had him, you know. Let's back off."

"Yes, sir."

Galen started his Crusadermoving back, and the Thormirrored the retreat. When Galen reported his Crusaderin position to cover the Victor,Davion worked his way through the hot-spring-fed, underground lake. Feeling somewhat safer with a palisade of stalactites and stalagmites between him and the raider, Victor opened a radio channel to his aide. "If we hadn't submerged ourselves when we first picked up those reports of a scout moving through here, do you think we would have gotten him?"

Galen's reply came after a moment or two of thought. "If he'd been running on magscan, he would have seen us and had us at a disadvantage. He must have been using infrared scanning, and the hot water helped us dissipate our heat signatures. If we hadn't ambushed him, I think we'd have been in trouble. Despite all the shooting he did in that fight, he never heated up."

Victor nodded to himself. If not for Cox keeping him busy and a couple of lucky shots from me, that monster would have eaten me alive. As it is, I've lost chunks of armor over my chest and right leg. The armor on Galen'sCrusader has likewise been reduced to paper-thinness over his right torso and left leg. These raiders are tough, but at least they're not invincible."I agree, Mr. Cox. I'm going to radio LeftenantGeneral Hawksworth and see if he can give us a clear route to the battalion."

Victor punched two buttons on his command console and opened a tactical frequency directly to the regimental headquarters. "Badger One to Den Mother, come in. I need a new vector to the front."

General Hawksworth's voice sounded tight with tension. "Negative, Badger One. You are to return to the Den immediately. That goes for Badger Two as well."

Victor frowned. "Say again, Den Mother." Victor toggled a radio filter on and off, letting static break up the communication. "I'm getting static here. Please repeat."

"Don't play games with me, Badger. I know all about filter switching when you hear orders you don't like. That trick got old with Redburn on St. Andre in the Fourth War. Repeat, report to the Den immediately. I want you here."

Victor swallowed hard. "Roger, Den Mother. Reporting home immediately."

Victor left his BattleMech standing next to a LeopardClass DropShip. He clambered quickly down the rope ladder from the cockpit and tossed his neurohelmet to a startled Tech as he sprinted to the low, squat building that served as the regiment's brain center during times of battle. Like a lean greyhound, Galen Cox followed on Victor's heels.

The cavernous room resounded with echoed fragments of desperate radio reports and requests for reinforcement. In the eerie glow of radar screens and holographic display units, the communications specialists looked especially haggard. They nodded in concert with demands for support, then punched buttons to shift the calls to others who could better deal with the problem.

As Victor pulled on a parka over his cooling vest, he saw why Hawksworth had called him back to the base. Someone has to organize this place. We can't mount a defense with everything running riot the way it is here.He spotted Hawksworth hunched over a tactical display unit and cut straight through the crowd toward him. "Kommandant Davion reporting, sir."

Hawksworth listlessly returned his salute. The normally jovial man had been drained of all good humor. Strands of white hair fanned down over his brow and sweat dripped from his nose. "No beating around the bush, Kommandant. You saw that Leopardout there?"