"Robert Thurston - Falcon Guard - Battletech - LJP#3" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thurston Robert)

FALCON GUARD 11

Setting the controls at high, Joanna attempted to maneuver the BattleMech forward with all the force the control systems could generate. At first nothing happened. The right side of the 'Mech seemed completely trapped, so she concentrated on its left. Urging the machine's left shoulder forward, she discovered that it would move slightly, no more than a mild spasm compared to a human shoulder's muscular convulsion. But when she repeated the action, the shoulder gave way more. In successive attempts, she sensed the shoulder's jerking motion, like a warrior punching in a hand-to-hand battle. The 'Mech's right side was still wedged too tightly for the whole machine to break free. Her only hope was in the jerky thrusts of the left side. Frantically, she continued to shove the left shoulder forward until finally she saw some of the debris in her viewport move. It was a slight shift, but enough to tell her she still had a chance.

Though the cockpit was stifling and almost airless, Joanna kept at her desperate actions until daylight suddenly showed through on the left side of the viewport. She could still not call up a computer diagnostic of the 'Mech's internal condition on her secondary screen, but she knew the odds were good that the area beyond the cockpit hatchway was now clear.

At the hatchway, she yanked on the manual release lever for the hatch, but the plate did not budge. The heat inside the cockpit was now almost unbearable. Forcing herself to calm, she tried once more to pop the hatch, which seemed to loosen but still did not open. With two hands now, first she pushed in on the control, hoping to release the pressure, then with a lifting motion, she pulled back once more. She tried this several more times, even though it took all her strength. Then came a sound that was music to her ears, a soap that might be the hatch lock releasing. Carefully now, gently, she continued to pull, side to side this time, gradually opening a crack wide enough through which she could wedge her body into the rocks and dirt beyond it. Some of the rocks fell inward, onto the cockpit's metal flooring, creating an odd clanging sound.

Wondering if she might have gotten enough movement from the 'Mech to free it from the heaviest layer of rocks and dirt, Joanna tried again to move the machine, but it

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did not budge. She was panting, the breathable air nearly gone. Clawing frantically at the rock wall in front of her, she dislodged rocks and flung them behind her, pushing dirt to either side of her.

Soon most of her torso was out the hatchway and into the tunnel she had dug. Instead of feeling exhilaration at the success, her body wanted to collapse, close its eyes, rest, and fall asleep. Fighting the urge to give up, she began to dig even more ferociously.

At just the moment when she might suddenly have tipped over the edge into unconsciousness, Joanna's left hand broke free into the hot, humid outside air. Knowing escape was so close, she rallied what little reserve energy still remained and frantically began to scratch, dig, and claw forward. Soon she had created a substantial hole. Air flooded in and she hungrily drew in a normal breath. Pushing herself headfirst, she forced her body through the opening, and emerged into the scorching air of Twy-cross. Joanna nearly collapsed just as she worked her legs out of the hole, rolling three or four meters down the slope of the rockfall. She landed on her back. Looking up, she saw the Hellbringer*s shoulder, its launch mount bent backward, and a small part of the head. It seemed to peek out from beneath a rock pile.

With great eifort, she hoisted herself to a sitting position and then looked around her. Various BattleMech parts were strewn all over the slope and down onto the floor of the pass. From what the wreckage showed, it looked as though the avalanche created by the explosions must have buried the entire unit. The Hatchetman's own fiery death must have set off the demolition charges buried in the sides of the Gash.

This Kai Allard-Liao was a courageous warrior, free-birth Inner Sphere pilot or not. The honor that should have gone to the Jade Falcons was now due him, whoever he was, wherever he was.

That grim thought was the last of which Joanna was conscious before passing out.

The Summoner, Aidan Pryde's 'Mech, lay on a plateau, looking for all the world as though it were merely resting, taking a breather before confronting another foe. Looks were deceiving, however. This 'Mech had met its fate in Clan Jade Falcon's battle to take the lush but undeveloped Inner Sphere world of Quarell. The enemy warriors left behind to defend Quarell had fought courageously, but Aidan's forces had overwhelmed them despite the low number of forces he had bid for the battle.

As for the Summoner, the BattleMech had been ripped apart. Its left arm lay elsewhere on the field, and its entire left side was a tangle of metal, wires, and other components. Aidan's chief tech, a grizzled old man named Lenk, reported severe damage to the fusion engine and that several other systems were inoperative. Lenk told him that any repairs would be makeshift, and so the 'Mech could not possibly operate at peak efficiency.

Aidan agreed, ordering Lenk to tag the spare parts that might still be useful to other 'Mechs, then assigned the rest of the Summoner for salvage. A good Clan officer always searched for the means to turn his defeats into virtues. A downed 'Mech, no matter how damaged, was never entirely scrapped. Someone somewhere would have a use for its remains. Nicholas Kerensky, he who had created the Clans, had instilled in his followers the absolute necessity for the severest economy measures. Nothing must be discarded until it had been squeezed dry of any possible new use. And, Aidan had noticed, there always seemed to be at least one more.

Warriors, too, wore out, for they were soon too old to fight. They often moved to support positions, training

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units, but failing that, these old warriors could still perform one more service for their Clan. In many battle situations the commander's only hope was to buy time by sending expendable troops into the fray. These warriors willingly sacrificed their lives. Aging warriors were often organized into such solahma units, then sent into the field for one last battle. Aidan thought of Ter Roshak, the training commander who had so changed the course of his life. Only weeks before, Roshak had given his life as a member of a solahma infantry unit.

A sad fete, thought Aidan, for a valorous warrior. Ter Roshak had survived heroically only to die as cannon fodder, an ignominious end. But perhaps survival had been the man's fatal mistake. Aidan would sooner die in battle, preferably in his BattleMech and while destroying both his enemy and his enemy's 'Mech, than live to see his worth as a warrior used up.

Having served for twenty years, he, too, was edging toward being an old warrior. Aidan was almost forty, an age when a warrior was supposed to be considering his options as an aging member of his Clan. Fortunately for him, however, there was a war on, a war the Clans had been living, dying, and preparing to fight for centuries, ever since the Exodus of their ancestors from the Inner Sphere after the fall of the once-glorious Star League. A Star Colonel now, Aidan could conceivably rise to high command levels, become part of the guiding forces of the long-awaited invasion of the Inner Sphere. That would certainly add a few years to his usefulness as a warrior. But he knew such ideas were mere delusion. Though he had legitimately earned all his promotions to this point, including his Bloodname, he carried a taint as a warrior that would let him go only so far as a warrior. His codex showed too many black marks. There was, for one, the dark cloud over the means by which he had earned warrior status. After Aidan had failed his first Trial of Position, Ter Roshak had schemed, even murdered, to give him an unprecedented, and illegal, second chance at the trial to become a Clan warrior, one of the highest honors to which any eligible young trueborn could aspire. The second taint involved Aidan's posing as a freeborn, the false identity he'd assumed for his second trial. The freeborn stigma still clung to him even after

FALCON GUARD 15

he had confessed his true identity. The third black mark was that he had competed for a Bloodname despite his past record. Only a day before the Trial of Bloodright competitions began, he had been forced to fight a Trial of Refusal to protest his Clan's denial of his right to compete for a Bloodname. Only by winning that contest could he overrule the Clan's decision, rfe had won the Trial of Refusal through a combination of intelligence and skill, yet he had never escaped the taint of the accusations against him. Last, but hardly least, Aidan had won the Bloodname through a last-ditch maneuver that no one could have imagined would succeed. Until the last instant, Aldan's opponent seemed to be on the verge of crushing Aidan totally.

And yet, it was Aidan who had won the contest and his opponent who died. He recalled the moments immediately after winning the Bloodname. He had passed out and been rescued from Rhca, the moon over the planet Ironhold, where the final Bloodname combat had taken place. Upon recovering, he had expected that winning the Bloodname contest would also win the respect of his fellow warriors. Instead, they regarded him with more suspicion than ever. Even the official ceremonies seemed to smack of perfunctoriness rather than the usual solemn Clan ritual. Perhaps, Aidan thought, his life would never again be free of the stain of scandal no matter what Trials or battles he won or lost.

Even with a Bloodname, his warrior assignments had been not much better than his assignments as a ''free-born" warrior. Over the years, Aidan sometimes thought he must have served in every backwater military facility in the whole globular cluster that was the Clan empire.

"You're thinking bad thoughts again," Horse said, coming up alongside him. Aidan had qualified with Horse during his second warrior trial, and the two had served together ever since, with only three short interruptions. This time Aidan had specifically requested that Horse be assigned to his new command. Many of his trueborn officers grumbled secretly about that because Horse was a jfreeborn. Trueborns did not like serving with freeborns, especially within the same Star.