Battle of Goito, Part 2

Battle of Goito by contributor Star Commander Druth.

Previous chapter

Druth punched his captive directly in the sternum. All he had been able to get so far was that this man was with the mechs attacking the factory. Maxwell had no stomach for interrogation, and had busied himself looking for survivors instead.

“I can keep this up for a very long time, surat dung,” Druth said. His normally friendly demeanor was gone, replaced with an angry frown. This man and his associates had come after Druth’s trothkin. That made him lower than dirt. “Who are you and the mechwarriors invading this factory, and why are you here?”

The man wheezed. “If you want to hear me plead for mercy…you’ll be disappointed.”

“Pleas from you would be nothing but a waste of time!” Druth barked. He threw the man against a nearby support column, then approached and drove his steel-toed work boot into his kneecap. He grimaced in pain, but still said nothing. “Tell me what I want to know now!”

The wheezing stopped, and the man began to laugh. “You think anything you can do will stop our goals? The Inner Sphere will fear us, and we will bring the light of our blessed order to them whether they welcome it or not!”

“What are you talking about?” Druth demanded. Then he heard a clicking noise, and tensed. “…What was that?”

The intruder only smiled, a trickle of blood running out of his mouth and down his chin. By that time, Maxwell had returned. “No one survived but us,” he said. Druth ignored him, fixated on the man in front of him.

“Soon, all will know the light of Blessed Blake!” the man cried. “Farewell, heretics!” Then Druth heard a loud, rapid beeping. The man had managed to shimmy a small button into his hand from his sleeve.

“GET DOWN!” Druth shouted, and tackled Maxwell to the floor behind the closest chunk of rubble he could see.

The explosion, centered on the one who had set it off, rocked the ground beneath the two friends as it tore through the air. Then it was over, as quickly as it had started. The men’s ears rang. Druth checked himself, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw he was unharmed. They had cleared the blast just in time.

He got off Maxwell. “Are you all right?”

Maxwell laughed hoarsely, shaking. “Yeah…I’m all right for business. I guess that makes us even?”

“Looks like it.” Druth smiled.

The disgraced warrior looked at where the enemy had stood just a moment ago. Now there was nothing but debris and a few stray body parts. He re-focused on the situation. “Max, did you hear what that man was saying?”

Before answering, Maxwell turned away and threw up on the floor. This was the first time he had seen the aftermath of a suicide bombing. “Sorry…” he said when he was finished, clearly embarrassed. Then he answered Druth’s question. “Only the last part, but I’ve heard news about that Blessed Blake thing. Something about a terrorist organization here on Goito talking about that. It made me worried, and I lost some sleep over it for a while.”

“Do you mean to say this man was with them?” Druth asked.

“He…He just might be,” replied Maxwell. “The mechwarriors attacking the factory, too.”

Druth thought. If these people were as zealous as Maxwell was implying and the suicide bombing had shown, there was no telling what they would do. As if in mocking response, another autocannon boom followed by the faint sound of breached armor could be heard from outside. The two had a feeling the PGC could not hold their ground much longer.

“Were there any survivors from when this Archer fell?” Druth cocked his head toward the fallen battlemech.

Maxwell shook his head. “No…I just told you a minute ago.”

“Oh…” Druth said, slightly embarrassed. “Forgive me, I must have been fixated on our intruder when you did.” Suddenly, Druth realized something. His eyes travelled from the Archer to the Grizzly 2, which had been standing silently in the factory bay the entire time. He had an idea. “Wait, what about the mechwarrior inside?”

Maxwell opened his mouth, then stopped. “I don’t know about that one. I wasn’t able to climb up and get the hatch open.”

“Well, then, give me a boost and I will see for myself,” said Druth. “He may still be alive, and if so, we can put him in that Grizzly and send him back out.” Druth could guess from the damage to the mech that the pilot was likely dead, but hoped he was wrong.

Maxwell’s eyes widened in surprise. “You want to do that with a mech that doesn’t even have all its armor on yet?”

“This facility will likely be lost without a full star of warriors!” Druth argued. “Do you have any better ideas?”

Maxwell relented. Lacing his hands together for Druth’s foot, he helped him onto the downed battlemech by its fragmented arm. Druth climbed over the panels and to the cockpit.

But when he got it open, his fears were confirmed. The pilot was indeed dead, killed by an extremely unlucky chunk of ferroglass lodging in his throat in the fall. Blood was everywhere. Druth grimaced, but said a silent word of thanks to the solahma for his sacrifice. “Neg,” he called to Maxwell. “He is gone.”

“Then is there anything we can do at all?”

Druth said nothing. He looked at the deceased solahma’s cooling vest and neurohelmet, and noticed a badge on the vest that he recognized: a blue square with two golden pillars. It was the badge of a warrior ranked a Star Commander in the Ghost Bear Touman. That made him fear even more for the factory and the PGC. Without their commander, would they be able to win?

He inhaled, counted to four, exhaled, and counted to four again. There had to be something that could be done to help things. Hoping for an answer, Druth took a closer look at the cooling vest. Its purpose was to keep the pilot from being broiled alive in the mech’s cockpit, which often got too hot to be inside without it. Additionally, pilots inside would often wear as little clothing as they felt able to. Outside of the mech, the vest doubled as bulletproof armor. This one still looked completely intact. Intact…and about his size.

For a long moment, Druth remained silent. His original idea evolved. It was surely insane, but if all went well, the factory could be saved. Perhaps…he could even regain his honor.

Druth removed the dead man’s cooling vest, then took off the badge from the vest and placed it in one of his lifeless hands. Slinging the armor over his shoulders, he made his way back to the floor.

When Maxwell saw Druth carrying the bloody vest, he looked utterly confused. “Druth…what do you think you’re doing?”

The stockier man fixed the skinnier one with a steely, focused gaze. He pointed to the Grizzly. “I am going to help the PGC,” he answered.

“Oh NO,” Maxwell cried. “NO WAY!”

“Do not worry,” Druth assured his friend as he began to roll up the legs of his pants to his knees in preparation to enter the battlemech. “I can pilot that thing and fight in it just as well.”

“You CAN’T be serious! You might get killed out there!”

“Then I will die happy!” He removed his shirt completely, exposing his muscular torso, and donned the cooling vest in its place. “My mind is made up.”

Maxwell growled in frustration. “Fine…but at least let me help you!”

Druth raised an eyebrow. “How?”

His friend held up a pair of tactical binoculars that Druth had not noticed before. “I took these from one of those Blake guys you stopped earlier while you were up there. I can get on the roof and watch your back.”

=========

“Reactor online. Weapons online. Sensors online,” droned the automated female voice of the mech’s cockpit. Druth made sure the stock neurohelmet that would ordinarily be used to move the mech from one place to another during its building and testing processes was secure on his head, and his eyes scanned the display monitors as the machine of war finished powering up. The armor display showed the right arm and legs were completely exposed, though all the internals were operational. He would need to be careful. He did not plan on losing them, especially with the right arm. If the gauss rifle on it exploded, it would most likely take the rest of the mech with it.

Perhaps Maxwell was right. This was suicide.

Druth shook his head to dislodge his doubts. No. I must do this, he thought. This is the only way to redeem myself. Just because I was denied a place as a warrior does not mean I cannot act…or die as one. He glanced at the spot where his commandeered vest connected to the cooling fluid dispenser. It was secure.

“All systems nominal,” finished the voice.

Druth keyed the communications line that Maxwell had rigged for them to use. “I am here, Max,” he said.

“Me too,” replied Maxwell a second later. “I’ve got a good view of the area from up here on the top of the factory. It’s not looking too good. You sure about this?”

“Absolutely.” Druth opened the throttle and set the Grizzly into motion. The factory was located in an urban manufacturing complex, and the buildings would provide ample cover and opportunity for surprise attacks if he was smart about it. They would potentially obscure his enemies as well, but hopefully his friend could remedy that. The battlemech began to pound the pavement with its mighty feet. “Find the closest mech that is not ours and tell me where it is. If it does not have a the symbol of Phi Galaxy, it is a target.”

The radio was silent for a moment as Maxwell looked around with his binoculars. Then he responded. “There’s one just northeast of you. It’s got some big missile launchers instead of arms, and it looks like it’s being a missile platform for the rest of its buddies. If you head down the street directly to your left you might be able to sneak up on it.”

“Aff,” Druth responded. “I am on it.” He increased his speed to a run. It only took a minute to reach the target, and he recognized its type as soon as he saw it: it was a Catapult. It carried a massive payload of long range missiles, as well as a set of medium lasers as backup weapons. This one also carried two TSEMP cannons. For fire support mechs, the Catapult was an old mainstay.

The pilot must have been distracted by the battle going on, because the mech did not seem to notice his own. Druth smiled at the stroke of luck. He had a clear line of sight to its rear, but would need to make the shot count. He would most likely only get one. Dropping his crosshairs onto the enemy, Druth gripped the joysticks firmly and pressed the triggers that fired the Grizzly’s gauss rifle, ATM launcher, and extended range large laser. A wave of heat washed over him as the weapons fired.

The shots all found their mark. Druth’s laser sheared armor off the right missile launcher of the Catapult, and the gauss rifle hit the rear torso, destroying one of the TSEMP cannons. The ATM also hit the rear, but as its explosive damage splashed across the enemy battlemech, it touched off some the ammo for the Catapult’s missiles that was racked there.

That touch-off set off a massive chain reaction. The ammo detonated, causing the rest of it to do the same, and creating an enormous explosion. Like a massively scaled up repeat of the suicide bombing from earlier, the entire mech disappeared with a thunderous boom that rocked the ground and rattled Druth’s teeth. His eyes widened at the damage he had caused. He had learned about ammo explosions during training, but no amount of simulations could prepare him for the real experience.

“Druth…Druth!” Maxwell’s voice came through the helmet. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Druth shook off his surprise. “Neg…quite the opposite, in fact! I am actually pleased with myself! Let us just say the same cannot be said of the Blakist piloting that Catapult.”

As the explosion cleared, Druth stepped the Grizzly up and over what little remained of the Catapult. He chuckled to himself with satisfaction, registering in the back of his mind how closely this must resemble a classic action film shot. He came to a single story building on the edge of an open courtyard that gave him a good view and decided to stop for a moment. He positioned himself so the structure protected his steed’s completely unarmored legs.

Druth surveyed the scene. Visible to him were two Phi Galaxy mechs: a Warhammer and a Shadow Hawk. From the sight of it, both were taking a beating. They were fighting an unmarked Griffin mech.

Strange, Druth thought. Why are two mechs so damaged against a single one? They must have taken prior damage. He contacted Maxwell, just to be certain. “Max, there are two Phi mechs fighting a single unmarked one. Do you see them?”

“Yeah,” Maxwell replied.

“Do you see anything else engaged with them?”

“No. Wait, hold on…” There was a pause. “There’s a squad of guys like the one that came into the factory coming towards them from the south! I think they’re carrying anti-mech weapons!”

“Then they are mine!” Druth declared. His nerves sang with adrenaline as he kicked his battlemech into a run again. Making his way along the street, he moved to intercept the infantry. It worked. He came to an intersection just as they were crossing it.

For a moment, the infantry froze, not sure what to make of this unexpected arrival. But a moment was more than enough for Druth. He could not resist turning on his mech’s external speaker.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said, his voice sounding through the streets. He trained the crosshairs on the interlopers. “And goodbye.”

Druth let loose with the Grizzly’s entire battery of micro lasers. He felt a wave of heat wash over him again. Druth was sweating profusely. Against mechs, he felt them inconsistent weapons, but micro lasers were a bane to infantry. Like a deadly downpour, the beams of hot energy melted the armed men.

That was when he heard a new voice. It came from one of the Phi mechs, the Warhammer. “You came to join the fight, you know how to pilot a battlemech, and we do not know who you are.” It was a male voice, one that sounded gruff. “Identify yourself! And where is Star Commander Jakob?”

Jakob…that must have been the solahma who died in the factory.

“There is no time!” Druth cried. “We can introduce ourselves after this attack is repelled!”

The enemy Griffin took advantage of the exchanged words and fired a blast from its PPC at the mech whose pilot had demanded Druth’s identity. A streak of man-made lightning sizzled the air and disabled one of the Warhammer’s arms. The pilot swore.

It was not in line with zellbrigen, the old Clan ways of combat, but Druth decided he was past the point of leaving an opponent to another warrior who was at a severe disadvantage. He raised his gauss rifle and fired. The slug struck the Griffin’s right arm, and armor flew off. As if in response, the Phi Shadow Hawk fired a short range missile barrage. The combined damage was massive, so much that the Griffin’s pilot lost control, and the mech crashed to the ground.

The Phi solahma stepped forward to finish it off, but before Druth could join them, he felt a slam of weapons impact against his mech. Turning, he saw a Jenner strafing past him. The Jenner was a very fast machine, often used as a high speed raider. It had just hit him with a volley of medium lasers and short range missiles. The lasers had only chipped armor, but the missiles had hit one of his exposed legs, destroying a jump jet.

Druth grit his teeth and spun the Grizzly’s torso to focus on this new foe. The moment it was visible again between buildings, he fired the gauss rifle, large laser, and ATM again. The gauss rifle and laser struck, shearing off all the smaller mech’s right torso armor. The ATM went wide.

Druth quickly checked his status. The loss of a single jump jet could be a potential issue…but not for a single thrust upward to get a vantage point. He did so, kicking the lift on and soaring straight up above the buildings briefly. Seeing the Jenner again, he fired the same weapons. The already sweltering temperature in the cockpit began to climb. All his weapons missed this time, and Druth made a growl of frustration in his throat.

When he returned to the ground, the Jenner opened fire once more. Two of the lasers hit the Grizzly, both pounding its right torso for great damage to its armor. Another hit like that and vital internals would be exposed.

The Jenner fired another volley of lasers as it sped around Druth’s left side, attempting to circle to his rear. Only one hit, but to Druth’s horror, it lanced across his mech’s body and struck the exposed right arm. The gauss rifle was knocked loose and fell to the ground. Thankfully it did not explode.

It was now or never. Druth had to go for broke. He would never be able to stop the Jenner at this rate…but what if he took a risk and let it come to him?

“Max, can you see me and this mech fighting me?”

“I can, but I don’t think you can keep up with its speed!” The smaller man’s voice was shaking from tension and anxiety brought on by the stress of watching his friend be so grossly outmaneuvered.

“You are right. I cannot. But tell me the moment it enters my rear arc.”

“Oh man, I hope you know what you’re doing!”

“JUST DO IT!” Druth commanded.

He breathed once more. Inhale, count to four. Exhale, count to four. Time seemed to slow as he awaited Max’s cue, and he could hear the rapid footfalls as the Jenner came in behind him.

“Almost there…” said Maxwell.

The gauss rifle had fallen next to where Druth was now standing. He picked it up with the Grizzly’s hand.

“Steady…”

Druth could almost feel the Jenner lining up for an alpha strike.

“NOW!” Maxwell cried.

Druth slammed his mech into a torso twist, swinging its right arm through the air like the boom of an ancient siege engine. He hoped and prayed his aim was good.

The flying part hit the Jenner on its already exposed right just as it fired all its weapons. The momentum sent the raider staggering sideways in a semi-pirouette as all the lasers and missiles traced across the pavement and buildings around the opposing mechwarriors. By that time, Druth had fulled turned to fully face his foe.

The top predator of Strana Mechty for which Druth’s clan was named could lie in a snow drift for days or even weeks at a time, waiting for a meal to pass by. When one did, the Ghost Bear would break from its hiding place and strike like an avalanche with speed and power unmatched in all the tundras it called home. The prey seldom even knew what had hit it. Druth imitated that awesome creature, and charged.

The Grizzly’s left shoulder slammed into the Jenner and knocked it straight backwards into a nearby warehouse. Druth did not hesitate. He closed the distance, placed his large laser against the ferroglass of his prey’s cockpit, and fired. The beam pierced the entire thing. The pilot was dead before it even cut off.

Then there was silence. No more sounds of battle could be heard.

“I think that’s all of them,” Maxwell said. “That was amazing!”

But his friend’s voice was lost on Druth. His pulse still raced, and sweat poured down his exposed skin as he sat in the cockpit catching his breath. The world around him seemed to fade away. For the first time since cadet training, Druth felt that he was where he was meant to be, doing what he was meant to do. Was this what redemption felt like? The feeling was like sweet surrender, and he thust out his chest to welcome it. Finally, he threw back his head and gave a victory cry.

“I AM DRUTH OF THE GHOST BEARS!!” he roared. “WARRIOR OF RASALHAGUE DOMINION!”

The gruff voice from earlier snapped Druth out of his reverie. The two surviving solahma from earlier ambled up to Druth’s position, having dispatched the Griffin. “That takes care of our introductions,” the gruff one said. His external speaker was still in use. “Open your cockpit that we may speak face to face.”

Druth complied, and removed his helmet once the hatch was open. The gruff man did the same. His face matched his tone of voice, stern and serious.

The young man stood at attention. “I deeply apologize if I have overstepped any boundaries…sir.”

The solahma said nothing, but took a moment to look Druth up and down. Finally he said, “You dress in the clothes of a factory worker, but do not carry yourself like one. What is more, you know how to use a battlemech, and you speak properly. You are no layman.”

It was all Druth could do to default to how to behave when being addressed by a superior. He had not at all thought of what might happen or what he might do after this battle. And there was the possibility he might face punishment of some kind for stepping out of bounds for one in the Labor Caste.

“Neg, sir,” he answered. “It is a long story. I do not wish to take up your time with it. You have potential injured to attend to and damages to assess, quiaff?”

“Aff. You say your name is Druth?”

“Aff, sir.”

To Druth’s relief, the elderly mechwarrior gave a nod. “There is no way a factory worker could have done what you did here today. I know nothing of you, but you have piqued my interest. I will mention you and your actions in my report of this battle today. I believe some of my superiors would be very interested to know more about you.”

“Thank you, sir!” Druth said, gratitude and hope suddenly filling his heart.

“You will begin though by returning that mech you have commandeered to its rightful place.” With that, he closed his hatch again, and he and the other solahma left.

By that time, Druth was beginning to come down from the combat high. He slumped back in the command couch of the Grizzly, vaguely aware that he was beaming like a schoolboy.

“Hey! What happened?” He had forgotten Maxwell. Druth put the neurohelmet back on so he could speak to his friend again.

“You are not going to believe this…” Druth told him what had just transpired. By the time he was finished, Maxwell was astounded.

“Wow…I think this may be the greatest thing that’s ever happened to anyone I know!”

Druth chuckled in response, exhausted.

“But it still doesn’t make sense to me,” said Max. “I always had a feeling you were different from me, but what’s your whole story? What even are you? You still owe me an explanation about that!”

“That I do,” said Druth. “But I have to return this mech first.” He paused as he began to walk the Grizzly back to the factory. “Come to think of it, we never decided what we were going to do after the working day was over, did we? I would say I have time to explain everything and more now.”

Maxwell grinned. “You still want that drink?”