‘Harris, take the left flank. Lippy, you take the right. Everyone keep your eyes open and on those I.R. sensors.’

The rain closed in around the troops, locking each 'Mech into a blank walled box. Were it not for their instruments, each man in Captain St George's unit would have thought himself abandoned St. George could see the thin steam of the rain frying off his heat sinks, and thanked whatever battlefield luck had brought this deluge. Without it, his Swords would be lost.

Damn it,he thought. What's taking McHaigh so long? Their retreat from the front didn’t take this long.

‘Harris. Anything?’

‘No, Captain. All clear.’ The Sergeant's voice seemed surer than when he had first reported his Lieutenant's loss at the front

‘Lippy?’

‘Safe and sound, Cap'n. You're not nervous are you, Cap'n? Those Steiners won't even reach here until tomorrow. They still think we're setting them up.’ There was humor in the veteran's voice that St. George didn't share.

‘Just remember, Lipescue, you indolent scrap dealer, they've got a merc unit out there to show up if they're too lazy.’

‘That's O.K., sir. We took them down a peg. They'll think twice, too.’ It seemed nothing was going to dampen Lippy's spirits.

‘Captain St George? Harris. I've got some movement to our rear, about 500 meters back.’

‘I'll move over to take your end, Harris. You get back there and report.’ St George wished fervently for a heavier contingent of machines. A Battle Masterwould make all the difference in the world right now. As he moved to cover the left flank, he reflected on the fact that a Locustand a Waspwere holding the center of his line If the Steiners pushed even halfway hard, the center would fall through.

Suddenly the dogs of war erupted in full cry, as every receiver channel in the Captain's Mech started to bellow at once. On Regimental, he heard the order to board the DropShips!

Over the battalion frequency, which till now seemed given over to chaos, came the voice of Captain Patel, Force Commander Keshii's second-in-command. He was ordering all units of the 131st. however scattered, to form up on the spaceport.

On his company frequency came the voice of Sergeant McHaigh calling for support. His position was under a probing attack, at least lance-strength at both ends of his line.

To cap off the pandemonium, Sergeant Harris's voice cried out over Swords One's tactical frequency, ‘Captain St. George, I've gota Wolverineleading a lance trying to cut us off. Engaging to prevent penetration.’

‘Swords One. pivot on the lett flank and fall back 500 meters. Look for Sergeant Harris and hostile action. Lippy, fall back 500 meters. You are officially the right flank and the middle. If anything turns up, report, then fall back to McHaigh's position.

Captain St. George fell back. He could see the firing. As he approached the battle, he could feel the ground vibration caused by the Hunchback'sautocannon 20. Harris at least was still up and active.

The gusting rain parted like a curtain on a stage, and for a brief instant. St. George could see the entire field of battle for about a kilometer in all directions. There, dominating the muddy grey-green field, was Harris's Hunchback,gouts of flame pouring from the massive autocannon. In front of the Hunchback,belching a thick rope of oily smoke, stood the Steiner Wolverine,burst open in a hideous manner. Spread out over the field, three other 'Mechs moved up. Two were indistinct, right on the edge of the next marching line of rain. The third squatted on huge birdlike haunches, its blunt, bullet-shaped fuselage unmistakable. It was a Stalker,one of the most formidable fire support 'Mechs ever built.

‘Harris, punch out!’ St. George convulsively fired all his weaponry at the Stalkeras though he could call back the fist of doom about to be unleashed on the Hunchback.As the Captain watched in horror, the assault Mech loosed its full barrage of long- and short-range missiles at the doughty Hunchback.A shattered comet with a tail of black smoke slammed into the Sergeant's 'Mech. In an instant, it dissolved in flames, a pyre from which there was no escape. With the finality of that closing act, the squall line swallowed the ‘actors’ like a fadeout.

We gotta get out of here,St. George's mind screamed. We're trapped.Instead of giving in to these fears, the Captain's voice rang out with unnatural calm over tactical. ‘Swords One, fall back on the double. Do not, repeat, do not attempt to engage any enemy forces on the way, but fall back on McHaigh's position immediately.’

‘Lippy. you still have one more LRM salvo?’

‘Yo. I was kinda hoping to save that one for my scrapbook.’

Though the veteran's attempt at humor was welcome, the image of Harris's 'Mech vanishing under the Stalkersassault had cooled the Captain's taste for banter. ‘Be ready to fire on the run, at my target coordinates, on my command. Now fall back.’

The terse orders had the desired effect. The sole reply was a crisp ‘Yo’. St. George moved through the rain in a direct line toward McHaigh's men, a line that would take him straight into the path of the Steiner Stalker.There was no sign of the giant assault 'Mech. The Steiners must have seen his forces moving up and mistaken them for something more than what they were. Harris's determined resistance must have misled them into thinking he had powerful back-up. St. George strode past the remains of the Hunchback.It looked nothing like the manshaped machine it had once been. The pieces were so small that most of the flames had already gone out in the downpour.

Out of the rain loomed the distant heat signatures of a line of Mechs firing to the right and left. ‘McHaigh?’ The question was superfluous. ‘Aye, Cap'n.’ The Sergeant's voice sounded happier than he had a right to be. ‘You can fall back through us, sir. We got a little help, though they won't stay long. Or so they say.’

‘Help? Who?’ the Captain couldn't think who was left. Regimental was pulling out, and battalion had come apart.

A third voice cut in, ‘Wake up, Academy boy. The Steiners are hot on your tail, and I don't intend to stand by here forever, just so you don't get your machines dirty.’

‘Seguin, what the hell? I thought you were going to but out if we got caught up the line.’ The Captain was astonished that the mere had stuck his neck out for them.

‘Academy boy, you make me regret coming back for you. You're the only one of the tin soldiers on this whole planet that hasn't come completely apart. You stick up for your men. And you took in those two orphaned Rifleman,stiffening them up enough so that they would stay alone in the salient until McHaigh...’

‘Sergeant McHaigh,’ McHaigh said. ‘...SergeantMcHaigh could come for them.’ The mercenary Captain paused to catch his breath. ‘Let's just say I'm impressed. Now don't go and spoil it by standing around here all teary-eyed with thanks.’

‘Swords of St. George,’ the Captain growled into the radio. ‘Fall back to the power plant. On the double.’

The battered Swords formed up and began to fall back, and Captain St. George joined them.

‘How do you like that? Not even a 'thank you kindly, Captain Seguin'.’ The mere's tone indicated he hadn't expected one.

‘He's got a lot on his mind,- you old pirate.’ Sergeant McHaigh put in before he. too, turned and walked off into the rain.

The Captain of Seguin's Strikers watched them go. He'd hit upon the most effective way to slow down the regular Lyran forces. He hoped the confusion would slow Hansen's Roughriders, too. At least enough for the Academy boy to get away. Now,he thought, how does that speech go? Something about being an unemployed mercenary unit looking for a hire. Yes. that sounded about right.