Dan's fingers flashed over his command console keyboard, shifting his scanner from magscan to infrared. The Rifleman'sarms glowed bright yellow as the cooling coils labored furiously to dissipate the heat buildup caused by the large lasers. "Hey, Clovis! We have him now. He's cooking himself. One shot!"

Morgan Kell's voice filled Dan's neurohelmet with an icy warning. "No, Dan. Stay where you are. This one is mine."

Off to his left, at the edge of his 'Mech's forward arc, Dan saw Morgan's Archermarch from behind a hillside. The IR image flickered and faded, but the faint visual picture beneath it did not. As Dan shifted his scanners over to starlight and brought the Archerinto clearer view, he killed his external radio link. "Look, Clovis. Morgan is doing it again. His 'Mech doesn't register on the scanners—only visual!"

The Rifleman'spilot seemed not to have noticed the lack of targeting image as he centered his guns on the Archer.Realizing that this 'Mech was a tougher nut to crack than the Wolfhound,the Riflemancut loose with everything. The twin heavy lasers stabbed ruby beams at the Archerand the smaller medium lasers shot pulsed bolts in their wake. Spent shells spattered from the autocannon ejection ports as a hail of projectiles shot at the Archer.

The Archerneither twisted nor dodged to evade the Rifleman'sonslaught. The large lasers flashed above the Archer'shunched shoulders, burning parallel lines up the hillside behind him. The medium laser bolts ignited a host of small fires on either side of Morgan's 'Mech, but none of the ruby light shafts struck the Archer.The Rifleman'sautocannon bursts churned two tracks toward the waiting war machine, but they ended before they slammed into the Archer.

Dan's mouth went dry. Oh my God.' It's not just that a 'Mech can't target Morgan. It can't hit him! It's like he's a ghost. He's untouchable.A shiver ran down Dan's spine. He's invincible.

The LRM launching pods on the Archer'sshoulders clicked open with the finality of a pistol hammer being drawn back. Riding brilliant tails of flame, two-score missiles arced into the night. They slammed into the Riflemanwith the force of a titanic hammer. Explosions blasted and tore armor in great jagged chunks from the Rifleman'schest, especially where the Wolfhound'slaser had already melted armor on its left flank. Detonations within its cavernous breast caused the Riflemanto shudder, and the ghostly tendril of a plasma jet licking from the gaping hole in the Rifleman'schest hinted at the ruin of the 'Mech's internal structure.

"Close your eyes, Clovis! His reactor's been hit!" Dan raised a hand to shield his eyes, but he could not look away. Get out! Punch out now! You can't save it!

Armor plates buckled from internal pressure, plumping and rounding the Rifleman'sangular torso as the runaway fusion reactor's heat touched off the autocannon ammo stored in its chest. A series of detonations blew armor away in small spots, and savagely harsh light stabbed out through the holes like sunlight shining through gaps in a thunderhead. More plasma tongues flicked through these wounds, then the Riflemanripped in half across its waist. The torso shot into the heavens like a dark comet, then hung there motionless as the boiling plasma jet beneath it imploded.

The Rifleman'storso, its lower edges still glowing molten red, finally upended and tumbled to the ground. It landed on its right shoulder, but autocannon ammo exploding in the firing mechanism flipped it over one last time. Though the 'Mech rested on its back with the cockpit apparently undamaged and pointing skyward, no pilot ejected.

Dan stepped the Wolfhoundthrough the 'Mech bay wall. "Obliged, Colonel."

Morgan's voice had not fully lost its icy edge, but Dan heard a trace of compassion. "It had to be done, Captain. Let's move. We've lots more work if we're going to win the battle of New Freedom."

15

Lyons

Isle of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth

17 May 3029

Daniel Allard closed his eyes and rolled his head in a slow circle. Pain stabbed like fingers of lightning through his neck and shoulders. Even with the padding, the neurohelmet pounded my muscles into raw protoplasm.He arched his back and heard a series of pops run up his spine. I haven't been so sore since—he swallowed sourly— since the battle on Styx that cost Patrick Kell his life.

Dan reopened his eyes and stared out the conference room's window toward the ruins of New Freedom. With roofs torn off and walls destroyed, the buildings the Kell Hounds had labored to build looked like twisted, diseased, defoliated metal trees. Oily black smoke still rose from some of the rubble piles to hang heavily in the limp, moist air.

Scattered throughout the area were the remains of two dozen 'Mechs. Most of the battered hulks lay in heaps on the ground while Techs, looking like ants in the distance, salvaged what they could from the carcasses. In some cases, like the RiflemanMorgan had killed, the 'Mech's legs stood tall and strong, but supported nothing.

Dan looked around at those assembled at the conference table. Conn O'Bannon, the stocky commander of the Second 'Mech Battalion, looked as though he'd not slept since the Kell Hounds landed two days before. His unit had met the Third Dieron Regulars First Battalion outside St. Johns. They broke the Regulars, but could not prevent two companies from retreating in good order to DropShips and leaving the world.

Across from him sat Salome Ward. Her command, the First 'Mech Battalion, overran the Regulars' command position near Montpelier. The enemy General, Tai-shoSen Ti Ch'uan died in the assault, and his second in command, Tai-saHiro Akuta surrendered when he realized his DropShips had been cut off from his position. After being assured his men would not be mistreated, Akuta asked for and received permission to commit seppuku.

Major Seamus Fitzpatrick sat next to Salome and watched Techs explore the two Sholagars'melted wreckage for anything of possible value. Exhaustion bent him forward like a hunchback, and there were bags under his usually bright green eyes.

Unconsciously toying with the green sash, Dan shifted his gaze to Major Richard O'Cieran. Damn. If the rest of us looked tired, Rick looks dead.The infantry leader cradled his gray-haired head in both hands and stared down at the table. Digging down to confirm the site we found as a mass grave has taken it out of him. It's one thing to wage war on troops, but the wholesale slaughter of a town in unbelievable.

Dan looked up as Morgan Kell entered the room, followed by Clovis and Cat Wilson. As they took up places at the table, Morgan moved to its head and leaned wearily against it. "Thank you for waiting. Tim Murphy just died from wounds he suffered here two nights ago. That puts our dead at seven, total casualties at thirty." Anger and frustration ran through Morgan's words. "Unacceptable, all of it."

Salome looked over at Morgan. "We've secured the planet. The two DropShips that got offworld will link up with their JumpShip in three days, if they continue at their current velocity. We've really no fear of a return engagement. Popping in so close to Lyons and using the moon to cover our approach surprised them. Are we going to pack up and still try to reach Ryde in time?"

Morgan shook his head. "We can't. On our original schedule, we had the Cucamuluswaiting at Alphecca to transport us to Ryde. When we learned of the attack on Lyons and headed back, Janos Vandermeer brought the Cuinsystem far enough to give us that tactical advantage. We've got ten days before the Cucan jump again, and then another ten days at Alphecca. We'll not make it in time."