TEXT: BATTLECORPS
  TRIAL UNDER FIRE
  Chapter 5 
  Complex Solutions
  by Loren L. Coleman
  
  BATTLECORPS
  Trial Under Fire • Page 2
  Thanks to our raid on those administrative buildings, 
  we have a good set of diagrams on this underground 
  facility. And it is their ’Mech production site, 
  Lieutenant. From what I’ve been able to sift through, 
  it may be their only one on Tranquil. It is also 
  lightly defended. The Jaguars counted too much on the 
  facility staying hidden.
  The front entrance has been intentionally collapsed, 
  a crude but effective shield against an assault, while 
  the Jaguars ﬁnish some new OmniMechs. Epona Rhi is on 
  station at the entrance, and she thinks she might be 
  able to blast her way through but no promises. Since 
  we’re running out of time I’ve found you another way. 
  You are actually coming in through the back with a bit 
  of applied engineering magic.
  Stand by for data feed.
  
  BATTLECORPS
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  Tranquil, Clan Homeworlds 
  1 May 3060
  Under the concentrated firepower of his Orion and Dominic’s sal-
  vaged Puma, Conner knew the seventy-ton Thor hadn’t a chance. 
  The first azure whip from Dominic’s paired particle projector 
  cannon drew a molten scar across its turret-style waist. The Orion 
  hammered in afterward, missiles shredding the final remnants of 
  armor on the enemy’s left leg and driving through the rent over 
  the left side to open up the OmniMech’s skeleton. Connor’s auto-
  cannon chewed deeper, tearing open the ammunition bin for the 
  Thor’s SRM system and smashing delicate warheads and propel-
  lant chambers both.
  Something gave way, and the entire collection of better than 
  one hundred missiles detonated with armor-shredding force. The 
  explosion tore out the entire left side of the Omni, critically dam-
  aging the heat shield and severing control of the left arm as the 
  fireball blossomed. The Thor’s main weapon, the left-arm gauss 
  rifle, dropped down to hang impotently against the Omni’s side. 
  Only the cellular ammunition storage system prevented the 
  ’Mech’s death, channeling the explosion out back vents rather than 
  allow it to eat further into the torso. Small consolation, as the tre-
  mendous force argued physics onto its side and spun the Thor 
  into a wild, staggering step that finally toppled the war machine 
  toward its left side.
  And straight into Dominic’s second PPC. 
  The manmade lightning arced and crackled, drawing a snaking 
  path from the Puma’s large particle weapon to the Thor’s head. 
  The stream of hellish energies slammed through armor and ferro-
  glass to turn the cockpit into an instant crematorium. What might 
  have been a recoverable fall turned into a graceless plunge into 
  death, the state-of-the-art OmniMech now reduced to so many 
  tons of parts and scrap metal.
  Two mobile field bases rolled into the immense cavern, the 
  third having been lost above ground when a Star of five Jaguar 
  OmniMechs surprised the commando. Dominic lost his Shadow 
  Cat toward the end of that battle, the OmniMech blown to scrap 
  but the commando’s warrior ejecting safely. If the Clan warriors 
  had worked together instead of as five separate warriors, they 
  might have finished off Connor as well. 
  
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  Panting for the escalated heat levels in his cockpit, he surveyed 
  the underground mining complex—the twisted and smoking ruins 
  left of the equipment. Three Clan ’Mechs littered the gravel-strewn 
  ground as well. Their threat ended, he disregarded them and 
  looked instead at the wrecked conveyer system—which Sorenson 
  had promised they could use to gain access to the back of the fac-
  tory complex. 
  The cavern holding the factory complex couldn’t be more than a 
  few hundred meters away. But through the seamless rock wall, it 
  might as well have been a few thousand.
  As if sensing his name in Connor’s thoughts, the analyst spoke 
  over the comms system. “We’ve picked up a weak signal from 
  Epona Rhi. She has dug partway into the factory complex and will 
  try to rendezvous as we press forward. Her last Mobile Field Base 
  vehicle will guide me back around while you head in through the 
  steel plant.” 
  “Good to know,” Connor said. “But how do we get in there if the 
  conveyer system is smashed?” 
  The structure normally ran six meters over the ground in a long 
  bridge from steel plant ore extractor to a ramp cut from the stone 
  wall at the actual excavation site. Sorenson had planned to have 
  the two ’Mechs walk up the ramp and onto the belt system, follow 
  it over into the extractor, and blast through an interior wall that 
  would allow them to exit out the other side of the steel plant. A 
  sound plan, except that now the middle of their bridge was miss-
  ing. And BattleMechs were not known for their climbing ability.
  A spike in the background static warned of an intercepted Smoke 
  Jaguar communication. “It is too quiet. What are they doing? All 
  posts check in!” 
  Though clarity suffered, Connor placed it as Star Commander 
  Drevin, the on-site warrior. Sorenson had intercepted a few trans-
  missions between this Drevin and Ratache Osis. Drevin was 
  desperate. Desperate men were dangerous. Desperate Clan war-
  riors, he had learned, were doubly-so.
  “I can’t raise Epona,” the corporal called out over the common 
  frequency. “Too much rock in between.” One of the Mobile Field 
  Bases began a tight three-point turn to head back the way it had 
  come in. “We need to get around the side of this mountain quickly, 
  or we’ll lose her.”
  
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  Connor shook his head. He couldn’t have Sorenson panicking 
  now. “Calm down, Corporal. Stop that field base.” He waited until 
  his order was carried out. “Now think, Thomas. You got us this 
  far. Your first plans have been upset, so come up with something 
  new. We’re two hundred meters or so from our target. Figure it 
  out.” There had to be another way. Just because he couldn’t see it 
  no reason Sorenson shouldn’t be able to. The man was a natural-
  born analyst. “It’s what you do best. Do it.”
  Dominic paced his Puma in a tight square. Working off nervous 
  energy while the intelligence analyst puzzled a new way through. 
  Connor waited, muscles cramping with tension. He was gambling 
  again, and this time every second lost placed Epona Rhi that much 
  further from any support. 
  Finally, “Can’t be done, Lieutenant. I’m sorry. No way you can 
  blast through, and your ’Mechs are not made to climb like that. 
  You need an elevator, or a ramp. A ramp!”
  He allowed himself a tight smile. Sorenson might just as well 
  have yelled “Victory!”
  “You aren’t two hundred meters from your target, sir. You’re six 
  meters. We need to get you onto that conveyer bridge and into 
  the first extractor chamber.” Data scrolled over one of Connor’s 
  several auxiliary screens. “Target the following supports beneath 
  the conveyer bridge.”
  He didn’t see what that gained them, blowing the rest of the 
  bridge, but the corporal hadn’t let him down yet. He selected for 
  lasers only—no sense wasting precious ammunition, and if they 
  made it through there would be no time for a refit and resupply. 
  Epona was counting on them being there. 
  The ruby beams lashed out, slagging through first one heavy 
  support, then another. The bridge twisted—and even through 
  cockpit armor he heard the groan of stressed metal—but did not 
  collapse. 
  The third and fourth support fell away, thick metal girders no 
  match for ’Mech weaponry. 
  The conveyer system collapsed. 
  Its outer structure fell flat to the ground, but where the conveyer 
  still maintained integrity it held up one end into an improvised 
  ramp. A brute-force job of it, but he wouldn’t complain if it worked. 
  Connor was first up the slope, praying for it to hold beneath the 
  
  BATTLECORPS
  Trial Under Fire • Page 6
  Orion’s seventy-five tons. It did. He smashed his way through the 
  preliminary crusher and into the extraction chamber.
  “The south wall,” Sorenson reminded him. “Burn through.”
  Lasers scored out, but where the girders had parted relatively 
  easily here the metal resisted. Reddish-orange splatters of molten 
  steel dripped slowly to the floor of the extractor. This was the best 
  industrial grade alloy, meant to last years of regular scoring and 
  pounding. It wouldn’t give up easily.
  Static flared. “They are coming. No one touches their command-
  er! He is mine.” Drevin again. No way he had figured out their plan 
  yet—he was referring to Epona, as if she would be leading in the 
  combined force. She was almost through the Jaguar’s barricade, 
  and with no support nearby!
  He gave up on the lasers, raising his arms against the weakened 
  metal and ramming piston-like blows against it. It cracked and 
  bowed, but refused to give. Dominic held his place behind the 
  Orion, unable to move up to help. Finally Connor leaned his le-
  viathan machine back and then simply charged forward, lowering 
  one angular shoulder into the damage already wrought against 
  the wall. 
  It held for a very long second, then parted with a shriek of tear-
  ing metal. 
  The Orion stumbled through. Connor found himself in a tight 
  passage meant more for exoskeleton-assisted laborers, but ser-
  viceable for ’Mechs if barely so.
  No time for finesse, he gave the Orion as much throttle as he 
  dared. Whenever he brushed the unforgiving wall he left behind 
  more of his protective armor. The first indication of battle was a 
  backflash of ruby light into the passage, coming from around the 
  next bend.
  The second was Epona’s call for help. “Blake’s Blood!” she 
  yelled, her cultured accent softening the centuries-old curse only 
  slightly. “I’m dancing with an Annihilator up here! Anyone about 
  to cut in?”
  Around the bend the passage widened quickly into a large 
  antechamber, opening up onto the factory complex. Roughly pen-
  tagonal in shape, the complex boasted a level of sophisticated 
  design not yet seen on Tranquil. As with the previous under-
  
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  ground site, the Smoke Jaguars designed it to keep the floor as 
  open as possible. The factory buildings had been built up the wall 
  rather than outward, turning the entire cavern into one large, met-
  al-walled chamber. 
  A strange tower in the middle of that chamber glowed with 
  large power conduits, and ran heavy cable to three automated 
  ’Mech construction bays that occupied different corners of the 
  facility. Nearly complete were three new ’Mechs (two of them 
  OmniMechs), nestled back in their cradles as machines continued 
  to work on them.
  Already complete was the monstrous Annihilator and the two 
  ’Mechs flanking it, a second Thor and surprisingly an Owens.
  One hundred tons and twelve meters tall, the Annihilator looked 
  every gram of an assault ’Mech. The head was formed up like a 
  thick comb over a bullet-shaped body which rested on massive 
  legs. The arms spoke of lethal intent, ending in two large-bore au-
  tocannon barrels each. It was not a design that promoted a call for 
  a reasonable solution. It was one which argued for unconditional 
  surrender. Though not an OmniMech, it was still a Clan-technology 
  machine and so followed their design theory in that it sacrificed 
  mobility for hard-hitting firepower. 
  And at the moment that firepower was turned against Epona 
  Rhi.
  In her time on Tranquil, the new MechWarrior had salvaged and 
  returned to service a Clan-design Shadow Cat similar to the one 
  Dominic had lost, except this one had been configured for two 
  extended-range large lasers and a six-pack short-ranged missile 
  system. 
  Her ruby beams speared out, but not at the Annihilator. She ig-
  nored the titan and the damage it visited on her, targeting instead 
  one of the smaller ’Mechs—the seventy-ton Thor. Her tactics had 
  thrown the floor into confusion as the Thor ran around trying to 
  avoid her rather than fire on the ’Mech which Star Commander 
  Drevin had chosen for own. In the much-faster Shadow Cat Epona 
  sprinted around the large chamber, making herself a very hard 
  target as she continued to punish the Thor and chase it in any di-
  rection that took her away from the Annihilator. Delaying tactics 
  as she waited for help.
  Which had just arrived. Connor’s first flight of missiles brack-
  eted the Annihilator’s back, blasting away armor but unable to 
  
  BATTLECORPS
  Trial Under Fire • Page 8
  penetrate. Though 
  weaker than other 
  locations, 
  the 
  as-
  sault ’Mech could 
  withstand 
  a 
  few 
  solid 
  hits 
  before 
  opening itself up to 
  debilitating internal 
  damage. 
  The Orion’s auto-
  cannon peeled away 
  protection from the 
  other’s right leg. His 
  lasers both concen-
  trated their emerald 
  energy into the left arm, unfortunately spreading the damage 
  around rather than taking advantage of the already-savaged rear 
  armor.
  If the weapons barrage hadn’t been enough to prove him a threat, 
  that the Orion was nearly of a height with the Annihilator would 
  call attention to him as the commando’s leader. No Smoke Jaguar 
  officer worth his heritage would refuse the call to battle. 
  As the threatening ’Mech turned to face him, he could not help 
  the shudder which shook him. His Orion was no match for the 
  Annihilator, and everyone in the complex knew it. Especially the 
  Jaguar MechWarrior, who raised both arms to level a quartet of 
  autocannon his direction. 
  Against the slow-moving Orion there would be little chance for 
  Star Commander Drevin to miss. 
  The spark of tracers flared in the cavern, drawing four lines of 
  destruction to the Orion where the heavy-caliber slugs tore across 
  its chest and both arms. The seventy-five ton ’Mech shook under 
  the onslaught much as he had trembled the moment before. It 
  stumbled backward, the commando leader fighting to keep the 
  BattleMech upright by strength of will as much as by his pilot-
  ing—failing.
  The Annihilator juggernaut lumbered forward with slow but de-
  liberate strides.
  But stumbling backward, trying to regain control of the battered 
  ’Mech as well as some measure of initiative in this battle, a lesson 
  from his academy days flashed back to Connor. 
  
  BATTLECORPS
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  The topic had been ‘Situational Awareness.’ 
  “It’s a MechWarrior’s lifeline,” the lecturer had promised, speak-
  ing in shotgun sentences as if every word counted. “Some are 
  born with it. It can be learned, true. But it can also be learned 
  wrong. And that can kill you.”
  Situational awareness covered a wide range of factors. More than 
  just knowing the lay of the battlefield, holding it in your head like 
  some oversized chessboard on which the pieces moved, though 
  that was part of it. When Connor gambled against the pull of grav-
  ity and shifted his Orion to the right, it was because he knew the 
  rough rock wall of the cavern was there. The BattleMech slammed 
  hard against it, and he heard the distant crunch of shattered armor 
  as the plates over his back were crushed. 
  It was better, however, than toppling to the ground—likely never 
  to rise again with the Annihilator bearing down on him.
  The pieces themselves were also a major consideration. The ad-
  vancing assault ’Mech. The Owens, only now moving in from the 
  other side of the tower. Dominic’s Puma—from the icon flashing 
  across his HUD, it had cleared the antechamber to come up on the 
  Orion’s left. 
  Epona Rhi’s Shadow Cat chasing the Thor, the Smoke Jaguar 
  warrior running his Omni in between the Orion and Annihilator, 
  stopping to twist back and track her advance. With his command-
  er switching targets to the Orion, it left him free to finally answer 
  her attacks.
  Though he’d never fought at her side before, he simply trusted 
  that Epona wouldn’t be there to face the Thor’s assault. A slight 
  gamble, yes, but in his mind the picture came together in such 
  perfect form he could imagine no other result. As much as any-
  thing, situational awareness was coordinating all the factors and 
  understanding how they related to each other. Predicting the deci-
  sions of your own lancemates as well as the enemy. 
  Recognizing that one moment when the opposition was most vul-
  nerable, such as turning their back and disregarding a former target. 
  The Clans taught their warriors to prefer single combat above 
  the normal chaos of a battlefield. Their warriors chose a target, 
  and attempted to bring them down to the exclusion of all else. In 
  Connor’s opinion, they had learned wrong.
  And it would kill them.
  
  BATTLECORPS
  Trial Under Fire • Page 10
  “With me, Dominic.” 
  He barely had time for the order before tightening up on his trig-
  gers. Firing, not at the Annihilator which was presenting ten tons 
  of fresh armor toward him, but at the Thor already wounded by 
  Epona’s earlier assaults. His autocannon spat out a hard stream 
  of destruction, tearing into the seventy-ton ’Mech’s left arm and 
  cutting it off just below the shoulder. 
  The Thor’s primary weapon was lost with the arm dropping away 
  to smash against the cavern’s rocky floor. 
  A split-second behind him, Dominic punched two PPC blasts into 
  and through the Omni’s right side. The blue-white lightning melted 
  away a large portion of engine shielding and destroyed the control 
  equipment of the right arm which sagged into uselessness. As good 
  as dead, the Thor suffered one final barrage as one of Connor’s 
  short-range missiles and both medium lasers struck at its right leg. 
  Already savaged by Epona, the limb had less to give than the salvo 
  demanded. The leg bowed outward at the ruined knee joint, then 
  snapped off as the Thor fell over onto its side, not to rise again.
  Epona had already recognized her own advantage, splitting off 
  from her pursuit of the Thor and slipping in behind the Annihilator 
  which had spurned her for the larger Orion—obviously consid-
  ering her an inferior target. Determined to chastise the Jaguar 
  warrior for his presumption, she cut loose with both large lasers 
  and a flight from her SRM launcher. Ruby energy flared at the as-
  sault BattleMech’s back. One of the energy weapons drifted low, 
  cutting into the hip instead, but the other punched through to cut 
  at the vital equipment at the Annihilator’s core. 
  Molten shielding ran down to the floor, and then high-velocity 
  metal spat out the rent as the assault machine’s gyro tore itself 
  into pieces. Three missiles smashing into the ruined socket sped 
  its demise, and the Annihilator collapsed first to its knees and then 
  slowly—almost gracefully—to the floor.
  At once, the assault machine attempted to get its arms beneath 
  it, to fight on despite the ruined gyro. The Jaguar warrior was not 
  giving up. 
  Dominic had already split off to challenge the Owens. Connor ad-
  vanced with Epona to pour more firepower into the downed assault 
  ’Mech. It could not—would not—be allowed to regain its feet or even 
  a prone position from which it might fire a pair of its large-bore au-
  tocannon. Gem-colored laser light flared, carving at the fallen ’Mech 
  as the commando warriors struck again, and again. When the Owens 
  
  BATTLECORPS
  Trial Under Fire • Page 11
  fell under Dominic’s PPCs a moment later, the fight suddenly seemed 
  to flee the Annihilator which collapsed over its arms and lay silent. 
  Connor noticed the large hole burned through the back of its 
  head, one of Epona’s large lasers finally ending the star command-
  er’s struggle.
  The three Damocles Commando BattleMechs held the floor, and 
  the factory.
  “Not bad work, Epona.” Dominic walked his Puma over to face 
  the Shadow Cat, presumably so he could wave through his own 
  cockpit canopy. “We could have used you topside when that Star 
  of Omnis hit us. Well, better late than never,” he said, forgetting—
  conveniently, in Connor’s opinion—that here it had been Epona 
  who had arrived first.
  “Late?” He could hear the adrenaline rush in her voice, shaking 
  that usually-soft accent. “Paine, do you have any idea what it took 
  to get here at all? Bloody mission cock-up, scattering us all over 
  the peninsula.”
  Diplomatically, Dominic retreated. “Sorry, Rhi. I’m glad you 
  made the party. Though all things being equal, I’d rather be see-
  ing the Black Hammer.”
  Epona Rhi calmed, coming back into her own self-assured voice. 
  “Every indication, including Jaguar comm intercepts I picked up, 
  point toward its complete loss. Except for Keith Andrew, and he’s 
  still stuck up north, we’re all that’s left.”
  Connor sighed to himself, then dropped his jaw down low 
  enough to engage the contacts and open a channel. “So much for 
  the cavalry,” he transmitted. 
  Not for the first time of late, Dominic’s pessimistic view of the 
  world was beginning to look the more clear. And with each addition 
  to his motley force, the strains worsened rather than improved.
  Epona’s Shadow Cat shifted on mechanically-taloned feet to 
  face the larger Orion. “It gets better. Keith ran into some heavy 
  laser towers in the northern stretch of Operations Area Three—”
  “We’re acquainted with those,” Dominic interrupted.
  “Well, these can target ground forces as well as low-orbit ships. So 
  don’t expect much in the way of support until those are taken out.” 
  She paused for a second, to let that news sink in, then, “In fact, 
  play it safe, and don’t expect much at all.”
  
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  Extremely good salvage, everyone. Can’t ask for much 
  better than a Clan factory.
  —We might ask for a working DropShip.—
  I’m working on that, Dominic. In the meantime, Epona’s 
  earlier scouting has pointed out several good routes 
  leading into the next Operations Area. With Osis clos-
  ing on our position, we will do better on the move. 
  Every step takes us that much closer to the Eclipse.
  —You know, I don’t remember signing on for the walk-
  ing tour of Tranquil. But am I happy to be here? You 
  bet I am.—
  
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