The Hard Choice

201st Strykers Battle Line

Plains of Faith, Althea’s Choice, Taurian Concordat

H + 0:12, March 16, 3054

 

The Bandit zipped around the legs of the Shadow Hawk and into the firing line. Inside the quick hovercraft the squad of infantry clutched tightly onto their restraints as the vehicle raced across the plain. Something detonated on the side armor and sent it sideslipping to the left for just a moment. Calista, standing in the center of the infantry compartment, grabbed hold of the light fixture in the ceiling above her to steady her as the hovercraft swayed.

''' “Alright, let’s go over this one more time to make sure we’re clear on this. When we hit the command center our job is to take out the AA so that our reinforcements can drop in on the battlefield. Once that’s done we grab the HVT and exfil via a VTOL that will not be coming to get us if the AA is still up. Otherwise, we’ve got to get out of here the same way we got in.”  The Bandit rocked under another impact and the light flickered for a moment as the static charge of a discharged PPC crackled through the hull. Calista frowned at her men, “I’m not looking forward to doing this twice, are you?”'''

 “No, ma’am!” came the unified agreement, and Calista nodded.

''' “Our lance can’t hold the Taurian ‘Mechs forever, they’re out tonned and outnumbered, so speed is key. Don’t waste any time, and nobody go looking for souveneirs. I want us in and out, understood?”'''

 “Yes, ma’am!”

 “Good, then let’s do the job right.”

' A shout came from the front of the hovercraft, “Captain Monroe, we’ve got a Cicada'' on us.”  The heat in the troop compartment raised for a few moments and the unmistakable smell of melting armor filled the air. The three lasers in the Bandit’s turret could be heard returning fire a second later.'''

 Calista called back, “Damage?”

''' “Minimal, but it won’t be for long. That bastard’s good. We can’t shake him, and he’s got a PPC. I think it’s a 3F.”  The copilot, a young recruit named Simms, seemed a bit worried.'''

''' “Let me guess, you want us to do something about it?”  Calista sighed and looked back to her men. “Unstrap and prep hooks, we’re about to get our hands dirty.”  The fifteen men and women under her command didn’t hesitate, a sign of the trust they put in their captain. Calista wasn’t about to tell them that she’d never done anything like this before. “Darcy,” she yelled to the Bandit’s driver. “Let him close and let us know when he’s within 90. Fake a turbofan malfunction.”'''

' The Bandit'' suddenly lurched hard to the right and its right sideskirt dug hard into the soft ground. Everyone reached for something to keep from falling over, but only about half of them made it. The rest of the platoon tumbled to the ground. Calista moved to the rear hatch as the Bandit began picking up speed again, her hand poised above the release. “Strykers, on my mark!”'''

''' The platoon regained its feet and planted themselves in three point stances on the deck, hooks in hand. Darcy called out, and Calista slammed her fist against the hatch release, blowing the bolts. The heavily armored door exploded outwards and away, hitting the ground and bouncing out behind them as they rushed away at over a hundred kilometers an hour. The Cicada was close, and its massive digitigrade leg came down hard on the door, crushing it like it was stepping on a tin can. “Go!”'''

' Calista went first, taking a running leap from the back of the speeding Bandit''. Below her the ground was a blur of brown and green, like an impressionist painting. If she hit it at this speed he’d just add a smear of crimson to the landscape. She clenched her left hand into a fist, triggering her jump pack. The boosters took a fraction of a second to spin up, and the ground got dangerously close, but then they kicked in and Calista was blasted into the air on a plume of superheated air.'''

''' She glanced behind her and saw the rest of the platoon taking the same leap of faith, rocketing into the air behind her. The Cicada didn’t change course. Either the pilot had been taken by surprise by the reckless maneuver, or he intended to simply splatter the infantry platoon like bugs on the windshield. Calista, being first out of the door, was closest to the ‘Mech, and adjusted her trajectory to the left to get clear. The platoon scattered through the air as well, easily evading the Cicada’s charge.'''

''' “Hooks!”  Calista tossed her grappling hook down as the ‘Mech passed by her, and it caught on the armored hood over the cockpit. She hit the boosters again to try and match speed before the force of 40 tons of Battlemech running by her tore her arm out of socket, but the jolt was still staggering. All around her more hooks were flung. Several missed, leaving the jump troopers to land on the ground and turn to try and catch up, but most found purchase and the troopers swarmed onto the surface of the ‘Mech.'''

' Following her line, Calista landed on top of the Cicada'' just above its cockpit. The thick ferro-fibrous armor was warm to the touch, heated by the fusion reactor just a few meters behind her that kept the war machine a living, dangerous champion of the battlefield. Most other ‘Mechs would try to pound through that armor and destroy the reactor, but Calista’s platoon didn’t have that kind of firepower. They required more precision.'''

''' She grabbed the edge of the armored hood and unhooked her grappling line, then swung her torso over the edge. A dozen meters below her, the ground was still that blurry image of speed, but this time it was interrupted by the powerful legs of the Cicada chewing up the ground in strides fifteen meters long. With each step the ‘Mech rocked, threatening to dislodge her and send her falling to be crushed below.'''

' From her vantage point, hanging half upside down, she could see the pilot of the Cicada'', his features hidden behind the opaque visor of a neurohelm, staring at her with a confused expression through the transparent armor of the cockpit. Without wasting any time she pulled the satchel charge from her belt, then stuck it to the underside of the armored hood, right up against the cockpit. The magnetic clamp locked it in place. She pulled herself back up onto the wide, flat back of the ‘Mech and touched her headset. “Clear!”'''

''' As one the platoon fired off their jump packs, scattering in all directions away from the Battlemech. Calista touched down in the field and took the detonator from her belt. “All clear?”'''

 “Clear, ma’am.”

 “Pop ‘em.”

' The Cicada'' was trying to turn back around towards them when the charges went off in rapid succession. The cockpit charge blew first. It wasn’t strong enough to actually breach the armor there, but it would do to disorient the MechWarrior inside. The next several explosions were in more vital spots. One of the Cicada’s superfluous shield “arms” was blown clear as the shoulder actuator was destroyed, then the legs went up like a string of firecrackers. At a full sprint one of the knees gave way under the force of multiple shaped charges, and the ‘Mech tumbled forward. The other leg came apart at the ankle, tearing itself to pieces as torn armor sheared myomer muscle and ground into the foot actuator.'''

' In a matter of seconds the Cicada'' was face down and helpless on the ground, crippled, but still twitching. The Bandit came in behind them as the platoon formed up again, and Calista ordered them all back into their transport. As soon as they were all loaded it took off again. “Alright, restock on charges. That cost us time we don’t have.”'''

''' Rushing air from the missing loading door whipped Calista’s braid around, and she tucked the end of it back into her combat helmet as they sped towards the enemy command center. “And which one of you dumbasses put a charge on a Cicada’s shoulder? I wish I could have you shot for incompetence.”'''