Within the first ten seconds, Thorvald knew there was no hope of winning through to the Rangers' objective, that the entire plan of slipping into the citadel of the University was dead. Within another five seconds, his only worry would be how to extract his command from the jaws of an ambush that was closing in from left and right. The overhead flares died away, leaving the battlefield lit eerily with fires sputtering among the hulks of shattered machines, and burning trees and patches of grass, the stabs of particle beams, and the crisscrossing patterns of tracers. Other ‘Mechs could be seen in the strobe-flashes of cannon fire and explosions now. There was at least a full company on either flank, and they were moving now to surround the Rangers, the trap complete.

"All units!" Thorvald snapped into the command circuit. "All units, this is Ranger One! Disengage! Repeat, disengage! Fall back and regroup!"

Perhaps the most difficult of military maneuvers, an orderly retreat under fire was far beyond the capabilities of most of the

Ranger Mech Warriors. Pinned down by savage fire, disoriented, many in near-shock at the sudden violence unleashed around them, they could only crouch their ‘Mechs against lightning-blasted ground or keep them moving toward the imagined shelter of the University's north wall. A second LoggerMech was in flames now. A third squatted back on useless, shell-torn hind legs, bracing its forelegs against the dirt as it raked the darkness mindlessly with its hastily rigged machineguns. Bullets sparked and sang from ferro-crete walls and the armor of advancing Kurita ‘Mechs.

Thorvald sent PPC fire scorching into an enemy Marauderhulking in the shadows just beyond an overturned skimmer burning in its own fuel. It had to be an enemy ‘Mech, for there were no Maraudersamong the rebel ‘Mechs. He was certain that he had seen at least three of the 75-ton behemoths edging closer for the kill.

Thorvald had scored a hit. As explosions flashed across the Marauder'sflank, it halted in mid-stride, turned, and leveled a barrage of charged particles and laser bolts that staggered the Warhammer.In his earpiece, alarms signalled rising temperatures and overloaded circuits. For an eternity of seconds, the two war machines stood there, a scant hundred meters apart, pouring fire into one another. Then the Maraudersidestepped Thorvald's fire and opened a devastating barrage at a Ranger HarvestMech.With a dozen well-placed autocannon shots at the ‘Mech's spindly legs and scantily armored hull, the Maraudercrippled the light agricultural machine, then lurched off into darkness.

Thorvald cursed once, then slapped the switch that cut on his ‘Mech's left shoulder spotlight. The light made him a better target, of course, but it tied directly into his machine's O/P 1500 ARB tracking system which transformed the Warhammerinto a deadly nightfighter. The beam of white light transfixed the Marauderin the midst of pursuing scattering clots of infantry with sweeping bursts from its medium lasers. Thorvald bellowed triumph and triggered a salvo of SRMs at his target, then released paired bursts from his PPCs. The Marauderstumbled, seemed to hesitate, then fell, an already damaged leg crumpling under Thorvald's fire as he rumbled in his Warhammertoward the crippled enemy.

Just then, something struck him from behind, with a force so powerful that it picked up Thorvald's ‘Mech and hurled it forward.

The impact threw him against his harness, and the feedback from the Warhammer'sbalance sensors had him reeling. On pure instinct, he rolled his ‘Mech aside, searching for a target.

More fire was probing toward him from the University wall, autocannon shells exploding in gouts of smoke, flame, and whining fragments of metal that rattled across the Warhammer'shull. He shifted weight to his ‘Mech's left arm to lever himself up and found that the load-bearing joint that supported his left-arm PPC had taken a direct hit. The weapon was still attached, but dangled uselessly, the power feed and drive mechanisms spilling like black spaghetti from rents in the joint armor. His searchlight was gone, too, torn away in that first armor-shredding blast.

Somehow, he got the Warhammerto its feet Red and flashing amber fault lights lit the system status indicators on his consoles. Temperature warnings shrieked in his earpiece and wrote themselves in fiery letters across his heads-up display. Coolant leaks were draining his machine of its life's blood, sending its internal temperatures soaring.

Thorvald's Warhammercould not take much more.

18

The Gray Death ‘Mechs were still ten kilometers away, but Grayson could already see the battle before the University to the south. Above the walls of the dry riverbed, the sky was lit with a pearly silver light. Streaks of color punctuated by flaring smears of brilliance marked gun and rocket fire in front of the barely visible towers of Regis.

"We're late," Lori said in his earpiece as they drew to a halt and studied the sky. The battle was audible as only a muted rumble, like summer thunder in the distance. "They've started without us, boss."

Grayson checked his chronometer. "And they haven't had time to get in position inside the University. Something has gone very seriously wrong."

Clay's voice came across the command circuit. "An ambush, then."

"Judging from the volume of fire...yes. The rebels are in trouble."

"We've got to help them," Lori said.

"What do the rest of you say?" Grayson's own thoughts were in turmoil. He wanted to press forward, help the Rangers who must be now battling for their lives. To do so could also mean the destruction of his own unit.

"We can't leave them in there alone," Lori insisted.

"We'd best move oot, sair, if we're going tae save tha' haggus."

"I don't know what 'haggus' is. Captain," Clay said, "but I think McCall is speaking for us all."

"Move it, then," Grayson said, his face set as death behind his neurohelmet visor. He felt very cold. "Lori, take the point."

Lori's Locustsurged ahead as she picked her way across the uneven terrain. The other five ‘Mechs followed in a line, with Grayson's Shadow Hawkin the van. The clashing thunder of their multi-ton jogging rattled the stones of the embankments on either side, creating miniature rockslides.

"Set IFF receivers," Grayson called. "They'll be on band seven." The computer-generated graphic of Lori's machine gleamed with a bright green light on Grayson's forward scanner. The flashes of light, and the brief but day-bright whiteness of flares grew brighter and higher in the sky as their ‘Mech strides gobbled up the kilometers.

Lori swung her ‘Mech to one side, her laser swinging to cover a looming shadow against the light ahead. Grayson brought his own laser up to the point, but held his fire. The computer schematic that drew itself was that of a Wasp,and it showed a green light within the wireframe torso.

"Identify!" Grayson barked. The Wasp'sright arm came up, its laser flaring blue-white. The beam passed somewhere into the sky above Grayson's Shadow Hawk.

"Hold your fire! This is Grayson! Put up your gun!"

The Wasppaused, hesitating. "That's got to be Olin Sonovarro," Grayson said. He lashed with his voice. "Report! What's the situation?"

Sonovarro's voice was a wail over the com. "S-sir...it's all gone to pieces! Th-they were waiting for us! Waiting in the dark, and...and..."