---

---

Impact information from Lyris's HUD lit up confirming her LRM barrage had hit home. She had no line of sight on her enemy, however, so the effectiveness of her attack was hard to discern. But going by the continued assault on the Cadet Sergeant's position- that much at least revealed that the missiles had done little to impede the heavy mech. No surprise there Lyris thought. It was going to take more than that to take out something as durable as a Thunderbolt. Her launcher was already loading up another volley of missiles when her sensors picked up movement on their side of the field as Peter's Shadow Hawk burst into movement suddenly.

The Thunderbolt reacted immediately with return fire, but her sensors could see Peters signature on her systems HUD. It only took her a moment to see what he must be planning given his route and projected movement. She was a little surprised how quickly the pirate was falling for it, but he either had no trust in the allied forces to his rear or he had none to prevent the maneuver, to begin with, regardless she could not allow this opportunity to slip by without taking advantage. If they could remove the Thunderbolt from play, it would be a significant victory for their side in the battle. As the heavy mech swiveled to keep the Shadow Hawk in it's LOS, Lyris pushed her mech into movement. The whine of servo actuators coupled with the sudden roar of her Griffin's engines heralded her burst into the action.

Her Griffin took a long stride, and then another that carried it to the edge of the rocky outcropping. Another, and she was falling into a dead sprint. A fierce grin spread across her face as she stomped down into the vortex of battle and out into the open. Adrenaline had long since overtaken her earlier fear and indecision- further emboldened by the actions of her comrades. She did not waste time shooting on the move, least her wild shots give the Thunderbolt a forwarning to the flanking movement. It had only caught sight of Peter's mech and traded briefly with Johan's Riflemen, and the pirate must have assumed the LRM's had been the work of a carrier or slower moving mech. The idea that a highly mobile Griffin had been waiting in the wings must never have crossed their mind. That was a deadly mistake she was all too happy to exploit.

"Always keep moving in combat, you go slow you die."

The wise words of one of the Star Guard mercenary captains suddenly floated to her mind. The advice repeated over and over again in the back of her mind as her battlemech charged at an angle following the path Peter had so that her left side and torso faced the enemy. The exchange between the Shadow Hawk and the Thunderbolt continued, and the shared network of the lance revealed that the armor of the Thunderbolt left torso had been compromised. Lyris descended into a slight incline in the landscape and soon found herself charging up a hill that would bring her well within range for her trio of medium lasers.

Her pace slowed just enough to allow her to aim at the thinner rear armor of the heavy battlemech. The power in Lyris’s three wrist-mounted laser cannons surged as her will became fire. Clenching one haptic gauntlet, she punched it forward to let loose her first salvo. Three bright green beams of killing heat leapt outward, spearing from Lyris’s fist to tear through the enemys back. One beam struck the upper right torso, while the last two burned into the central torso armor. The armor instantly began flashing from grey to red to white hot in an instant before vaporizing into scalding, super-heated mist.

The Thunderbolt rocked it's upper-body around faster than Lyris could have anticipated, using the motors of its upper torso to keep the Shadow Hawk and Griffin to it's right and left side respectively. Lyris punched her jump-jets online to keep pace with the torso twist. This allowed her another volley of telling hits into its rear armor. Already much of it's back plated armor had melted away to reveal the more vulnerable internal structures within. Thanks to her earlier charge the Thunderbolts own shoulder mounted LRM served as a blind spot for the air-born Griffin.

With luck, another few raking attacks into its rear would cook the pirates LRM ammo bins and then...

Blazing klaxons blared to life throughout Lyris's cockpit as automated warnings screamed into her nerohelmets HUD. In a sudden thought of alarm, Wulfhart thought she might have pushed her engines too far; double heat sinks be damned. However, the signals were proximity warnings of a nearby threat not the sudden shutdown of her engine. She broadened her perspective as she tapped into the other sensor systems afforded to her and realized almost too late the danger. Riding from the treeline on stubby legs like some kind of rusted knight in armor was the Urbanmech from earlier. The armor on its right arm had melted away, and the structure sparked and smoked, but the AC/20 was quite alive and well. As if to prove this very fact that same cannon belched forth with a resounding and distinctive boom that quickly put to shame the autocannon Peters Shadow Hawk sported.

The weapon was still well out of its effective range, however, and the shell wheezed by just below her steeds legs. Lyris landed a moment later, and shot skyward once more in the opposite direction, giving up her pursuit of the Thunderbolts damaged rear section to create distance from the most dangerous weapon on the field. This brought her around to where the Thunderbolt could finally bring its guns to bear on the pesky moth eating at it's back. Two lasers streaked by, going wide of their mark, but the third hit home. Lyris had only enough time to intercept what might have been a direct shot to her Griffins head by twisting her torso and bringing her shielded left arm to bear. The heat washed over the armor there turning it an angry red.

"Durch die Götter!" she spat into comms, "someone gut that uber now!"

---

---

"Excellent work, Eichberg!" Han replied at Johans contact report, but he quickly followed up with criticism. "A little faster on the draw next time would be appreciated, however." Johan only flicked the radio on for a second to reply with "Roger."
Johan glanced at his heat gauge and watched it slowly go down, the double heat sinks no doubt working as fast as they could in the ambient heat of Steelton. He grabbed the end of his shorts and flapped it to cool off a little as he kept his eye on the battlemap. If anyone needed fire support, he would be able to find them on his battlemap and deliver the required support much quicker than if he were to try to find them with his eyes. He was always told that while it was good to know how to fight without instruments, having good instruments were still very useful in a fight. A badass pilot is great, but a badass pilot with good radar and sensors is even better.

Johan watched as Mattlov moved to engage the Thunderbolt, forcing it to turn to face his flanking Shadow Hawk. The two exchanged fire, Mattlov managing to come out on top of that engagement. The Thunderbolt, now turned, had his back turned to Lyris. She took advantage of the flank and rushed into combat, sprinting at top speed towards the heavier battlemech. Johan watched anxiously, in a battle every situation could go wrong, the Thunderbolt could suddenly turn and alpha strike his friend, and a lucky hit could kill her instantly. He glanced to his heat again, it was going down, but not fast enough. Johan twisted the torso of his rifleman in preparation to step out. The small pilot felt his heart pound and he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. Then he saw a new blip on his battlemap, it must have been the Urbanmech. Even at a distance he heard the AC/20's boom, a low thunderclap. Johan pushed his war machine to the limit, going as fast as he could into a run, he needed to clear his cover quickly to get a shot off at the Urbanmech. He kept one eye on the battlemap as he put one foot in front of the other. Lyris' blip didn't go out, so the shot either missed or she survived.

He cleared the cover, seeing Lyris in the air, twisting to protect her head from the Thunderbolts array of medium lasers. A quick glance at the battlefield and he saw his target, hearing his friend shout, the Urbanmech was running at full speed to the Thunderbolts side. He concentrated on halting his mech as the Urbanmech fired again. Another low thunderclap, a shell of metal doom soared up from the short barrel of the AC/20 towards Lyris. Johans stomach dropped, was he too late? Would Lyris survive that shell? If it hit a noncritical component, an arm, or a leg, she could come out okay. But if it hit a side torso, and it dug into the internals, the shrapnel could shoot out into the cockpit and injure her. He could only watch as the shell approached her mech... and it went right past her, missing by about a dozen meters. The shell arced over and disappeared from view, likely landing somewhere behind Johan. He sighed in relief and halted his mech completely. He had to aim fast, he could imagine the ammo bin of the enemy AC/20 loading in another massive round. To be sure he zoomed with his neurohelm and hovered the crosshair over the gun arm of the Urbanmech once more. He squeezed the trigger for one large laser again, it would be enough, and he wanted the other laser to stay charged in case he missed with this one. The familiar blue beam surged forwards, connecting with right side torso just below the gun arm, at the hip. He pulled the laser towards the AC/20 itself and as the Urbanmech pilot tried to twist the to protect the gun. The laser found itself slashing across the AC/20 and even burning down the gun barrel itself. The gun must have been loaded. The Urbanmechs right arm exploded catastrophically, a sudden high pitched crack that sent pieces of armor and mangled gun parts at speed into the sandy ground. The area around the Urbanmech kicked up sand and dust like an airburst artillery shell had just detonated above the ground. The Urbanmech itself was midstride, and the ammunition explosion in the right arm sent the mech sideways, smashed into the ground.

"Urbanmech right arm destroyed, Urbanmech knocked over." He said into the communications network, relief in his voice. What wasn't reliving was that he now had the full attention of the Thunderbolt. It ignored the other mechs closer to it, Lyris' Griffin and Mattlov's Shadow Hawk. The pirate battlemech broke out into a full sprint towards Johan, who was stunned for a second at the sudden recklessness of the enemy mech. Johan put his mech into reverse, but the Thunderbolt charging forward was quicker. He fired a PPC quickly aimed at the heavy mech, the bolt of lightning striking it right in the center torso but the mech surged forward with intensity still, only recoiling a little against the attack. It ignored any attacks and rushed Johan, furious at the Rifleman who gunned down his companion. The Thunderbolt slammed its foot down and used its momentum to slide closer to Johan, the pilot knowing exactly how far its battlemechs intertia would take it. A mere few meters away from Johans Rifleman, the Thunderbolt thrust its left hand forward, open palmed at the Riflemans left torso. The hand impacted with a deafening crash of metal on metal, and then four quieter, but still noticeable clangs. The Thunderbolt had dug its fingers into the side torso of Johans battlemech. Johan shouted a curse as the Thunderbolt yanked his mech towards him, forcing Johan to step foward and twist his torso right slightly, forcing his guns line of attack away from the Thunderbolts torso. Johan managed to get his left gun arm pointed at his attackers left arm, and burned a laser into the Thunderbolts arm, but the pirate ignored the attack. He responded by punching with his right arm, slamming his heavy mechs fist into the Riflemans left leg, crumpling armor plating. As Johans large laser was still cycling, the Thunderbolt punched again, this time a hammer blow into the left underarm of Johan's battlemech, throwing off his aim.
"Scheisse! Help!" He shouted desperately, sweating from the heat and the pressure from the attacker. In a bid to try and resist the grapple, Johan kneed the crazed pirate, he felt the attack connect but he wasn't sure where he hit. The Thunderbolt slammed his arm into the Riflemans left leg once more, collapsing the armor plating and crushing the myomer underneath. Sparks shot out from the wound in the leg, Johan heard alarms and saw on the paper doll that his left leg had been damaged heavily.

---

---

The sudden appearance of the Urbanmech had thrown Lyris in an unattainable situation. Unable to retreat, nor push for the Thunderbolt's flank without risking a shot from an AC 20 or take fire from the Thunderbolt directly. Every resounding boom from the Urbanmech caused her heart to pound in her chest. Just as visions of an autocannon round cleaving her mech in two flashed through her mind, there came another sound altogether. The humming thrum of what Lyris recognized was a powerful laser shot. It took a while for Lyris to realize the source of the shot from the HUD function of her neurohelmet. The superheated beam struck the enemy urbanmech and seemingly disabled it in one well aimed shot

"Urbanmech right arm destroyed, Urbanmech knocked over."

Lyris recognized Johan's voice over the radio and breathed a sigh of relief-- she owed Mouse for this one. Before she could recover or take advantage of the sudden turn of events the Thunderbolt facing her dropped all interest in either her or Peter. It took Lyris a moment to correct her steeds stance before she could give chase, having not anticipated this strange reaction from the pirate mechwarrior. She wasted no time in giving chase, firing wild shots into the compromised armor of the heavy mechs rear. The mechwarrior pirate ignored all of these and continued its wild charge. It took her only a moment to realize the pirate's target as it ran toward their line. She pushed her engine until her steed had fallen into a full sprint, desperation plagued her thoughts as a spark of fear in her chest grew. What if she did not make it in time?

By the time she closed the distance once more the pirate had already engaged Johan's Riflemen in a deadly melee of metal on metal violence. Lyris cursed under her breath, but she had been offered one advantage at least. As the heavy pirate battlemech slammed its right arm into the Riflemen's leg, Lyris quickly rotated her mech's upper torso to the right -- hydraulics hissing and actuator motors roaring with the motion. At the tail end of her charge, she willed the upper body to swing around to the left again, using the momentum of her sprint and twist to send the oversized hatchet she carried into a deadly horizontal arc toward the rear of the Thunderbolt.

With a guttural growl, she aimed for the section of the Thunderbolt where upper torso connected its bottom legs. A resounding crash of whining metal and tearing iron echoed with the impact. The jolt was so violent in fact it rocked Lyris in her seat causing her to be flung forward slightly before her momentum became restrained by the harnesses that kept her rooted to her chair. She tasted blood as she realized she must have bitten her lip from the reckless move. Still, her blow was quite telling as her ax sunk rudely into the structure of the Thunderbolt.

It stumbled forward before arresting its momentum, however, before the pirate mechwarrior could recover fully from the blow Lyris opened the left palm of her haptic gauntlet. Her mech's hand began releasing the hatchet, which left it to rest in the back of the Thunderbolt. Metal whined, and sparks flew from the location of her attack. The massive bladed weapon had stuck fast directly into the motors that allowed the Thunderbolt to twist its torso. The pirate's heavy mech was now left unable to maneuver and retaliate against their aggressor. Lyris backed her Griffin off as the trio of lasers located in her mech's right charged with power.

A salvo of laser fire slammed into the already compromised back armor of the Thunderbolt. Her HUD revealed severe structural damage as the mechs internals became wrecked from the stream of laser fire. The pirate's mech still stood, however, and unable to turn in time, it instead took a lumbering step toward the Riflemen, perhaps hoping to charge directly into it now that it could no longer twist to punch with its fists.

"Oh, sterben gerade!"She yelled in frustration.

She fired another salvo pushing her engine into the red zone as the heat began to build to near critical levels. Three lancing beams of green light cut a trail across the Thunderbolts rear structure, back and forth like the daft movements of a painter. This time, finally, she had found the components she had been hoping for as a massive explosion rocked across the Thunderbolts body as the LRM ammunition it carried cooked off. The entire upper left torso was at one instance engulfed in flames before it seemingly shattered and exploded, taking its whole left arm with it. The LRM launcher went as well as the thing rocked violently to one side, barely staying on its feet before finally falling with a ground shaking thud. Amidst the thunderous fall came a series of secondary explosions as missiles flew into the air amidst hot red shrapnel like a bizarre and horrible fireworks display.

Lyris pulled her mech back quickly as she instinctively shielded her cockpit with her left shield arm. As the explosions died down and the pauses between them grew longer Lyris let out a shuddering breath before keying communications.

"You still with us Mouse?" A layer of concern in her voice.

Thunderbolt down. Urbanmech crippled...

Then the PPC bolt from the Panther seared through the air and landed with an audible crackle that scrambled the HUD on his helmet momentarily, disrupting his reaction fire.

"Mattlov, break left," Hart's voice came over the calm. Milliseconds after executing the Captain's orders, the Panther was rocked by a barrage of autocannon and large laser fire, staggering. It took him closer to the Panther, into SRM range. It was a risk to run.

The Panther had firepower and armor, but not speed. The Shadow Hawk, twenty pounds heavier, had superior firepower at any range, an edge in maneuverability...and other advantages.

But that didn't stop a lucky hit from the SRM-4 rack on the smaller rack from digging into his Streak-SRM ammo supply. In the old days, an ammo explosion would cripple a mech, generally fatally, taking an arm off and eating away at the center torso and engines.

The ammo explosion still did damaged, but the armored cells minimized it even as the ammo was ejected with a loud thump, clang and a flare of cooked off missiles. The warning buzzes going off in his ears and the red flashes were entirely unnecessary -- he fucking well knew he had an ammo explosion.

His first priority was to recover from the hits, to stay up. He flared jump jets, adjusted balance, stepped, flared jets again to start the run and kept moving. The mech's balance was lighter with the ammo jettisoned, and he relied on the man-machine interface of the neurohelmet to keep his gait and handle the mech's movement.

He could see the fire continue as the Captain laid down the barrage, but there was a more important warning -- that Thunderbolt was starting to get up.

He placed another shot from the AC-5, even while calling it out, "TDR getting up, concentrate fire" on instinct, even as he lined up his ER large laser, trying to land on the weak points of the enemy's armor, trying to breach the internals and finish that beast off...

Water was flung in every direction with each step the titanic machines took. The river churned and bubble as continual laser fire caused the surface to boil. Rockets screeched through the air, dirt on the walls of the channel being knocked loose by the sheer force of the flying projectiles. An explosion rocked the already damaged Wolfhound mech, flames washing over the cockpit like the bellowed fury of hell. In response, the hound puffed out it's chest, great beams of light bursting forth from the trio of cannons positioned there. The Panther and the Wolf stared one another down with unflinching valor. They loosed blow after blow upon one another, tearing at armor and turning their surroundings into slag.

Han Bjornson's teeth clenched tightly together, his hands wrapped about the sweat-soaked controls of his mech. That mechwarrior, so young and brash, carried a grim look of determination upon his face. He had never faced down an opponent like this one before. Back at the Nagelring he had only sparred with students as inexperienced as himself. Han believed he was fighting the best of the best then. The Commonwealth's academy had to field the best; that was it's reputation. Yet here Han sat, staring down a warrior that fought less like a man and more like a beast.

The Panther's pilot pushed his machine ever forward, never slowing or faltering in his charge. Han was on the back foot, trying to remain at maximum range to avoid the punishing barrages of missile fire coming from his foe's SRMs. The Wolfhound was an incredibly quick machine, far faster than the Panther that stood opposed to it. Under normal circumstances, Han could've ran circles around this guy. Yet he had foolishly charged into the river channel, where his hound's speed was robbed by the rushing waters that clung around it's heavy legs. The Panther had no such troubles; it's jumpjets allowed it to explode forth from the depths, rushing through the air and closing the distance with a flurry of rocket fire.

Every blast beat against Han's mech with a rage he could barely stand. He held as strong as he could, but it was a fight just to remain upright. Many of his own return shots went wide because Bjornson was unable to steady himself.

"Damn it..." He breathed, his chest heaving. The heat was unbearably ferocious. He could feel his shirt sticking to his chest, sweat dribbling down the contours of his face. His single heat sinks couldn't keep up with the pressure he was putting on the cabin with his own lasers. If Han didn't finish this fight quickly, or pull away, he'd end up blacking out. It was a terrifying thought, but he was forced to let it linger in the back of his mind- he could focus only on surviving.

He sunk his teeth into his lower lip hard enough for the harsh taste of iron to leak into his mouth. Han pushed forward on his controls, reversing the direction the Wolfhound was headed in. "Damn you!" He howled, though his faceless foe could not hear his words. Bjornson wondered what the pirate inside that hunk of metal was like. Was he an ugly, bloodthirsty beast? Or merely a man forced into a life as bleak as this one? Questions that would never be answered, Han knew; but ones he could not help but let pass before his mind as he let loose another volley.

His large laser and three medium lasers flew in unison. They slammed into the front of the Panther, turning it's chest into molten metal. He could see coolant liquid coalescing with the fiery steel. He'd managed to damage the heat sinks, then. Good. Perhaps his enemy would begin to feel the heat that Han was under. Bjornson felt a surge of confidence fill his heavy chest. He could tell he was doing significant damage to his foe. 'Looks like I've finally got you, cretin.' He thought, his grim frown twisting into a wicked grin.

Pride came before the fall. The PPC on the Panther's arm, though heavily damage, was still functional- Han felt his heart sink the moment he watched it charge up. There was no reaction to be had except shock when the weapon's barrel was consumed by electricity and a beam of pure, unbridled energy cut threw the air. It struck the Wolfhound's left shoulder, nearly tearing the arm from it's socket entirely. The probe embedded within the limb went haywire, sending feedback flooding into Han's cabin. He screamed in pain at the high pitched noise his damaged neurohelmet gave off. Moments later, the whole machine reacted.

The Wolfhound stumbled before falling, the large laser's barrel digging into the mud at the bottom of the river. The mech was upon it's knees, it's arm hanging precariously by a small piece of unbroken metal, but it was clear it had been made useless by the critical blast. Bjornson felt himself fall forward, the harnesses digging into his shoulders and chest. His hands, shaky and cold, reached up to throw the damaged helmet from his head. The screeching didn't stop when he'd gotten it off. He could still hear a terrible, piercing ringing bouncing around in his skull. Han covered his ears with his palms, trying to steady his breathing as he waited for the sound to stop on it's own.

While he recovered, the boy was utterly and totally vulnerable. Han knew he could lose his life at any moment.

Yet, the killing blow never came. He turned his eyes to the viewscreens, watching as the enemy Panther climbed up out of the river. Someone else had engaged it. 'Thank God.' Bjornson allowed himself a brief moment of relief amidst the terror and fear of the situation. Once his hearing had returned and the ringing was at a minimum, Han lowered his hands. He caught sight of blood on one of his gloves and his heart leapt up into his throat.

'D-did I rupture an eardrum?!' He wondered, his hand going back up to feel around that side of his head again. A sharp pain came when his covered fingers ran over his skull. A cut, likely from when he'd torn the neurohelmet off. Another sigh of relief. He'd gotten lucky. Extremely lucky. One wrong move, and...and...

'Don't.' He had to tell himself, taking in a deep breath. He couldn't have a panic attack in the middle of battle. Bjornson, as calmly as he could, bent down to retrieve the helm he'd thrown away. After making sure he wouldn't cut himself on any misplaced edges, he lowered it back over his head, letting the sounds of battle roar in his ears once more.

Information flooded his mind. He knew now that it was Mattlov that had driven the Panther away, and the captain who was now tearing it apart at range. He saw, too, that the enemy Urbanmech was down, and the Thunderbolt was taking a heavy beating. Yet...friendlies had been damaged, too. The Rifleman's signal was faint, and Wulfhart's Griffin had suffered heavy damage as well.

It was a cause for concern, but with all the bogeys either down or heavily damaged, Han figured they would be alright.

Then Mattlov called out that the Thunderbolt was getting back up.

'Shit. Shit. Shit!' Han forced his Wolfhound to rise, the gun plucked up from the depths covered in mud, drenched in water and decorated with a spattering of plants. He slowly climbed up out of the channel, his mech's broken arm hanging limply at it's side as it climbed. He appeared over the edge, finally getting a view of the greater battle that had waged in his wake. He saw now that leaving the boy alone with the Thunderbolt was a mistake. His mech had been utterly brutalized. If the enemy was able to get back on him...

"Wulfhart, get the boy out of there, now!" Han roared a warning. "That Thunderbolt will tear him to pieces!" He raised his Large Laser up, letting his own artillery loose upon the behemoth of steel and hate. Concentrated fire was their only hope of destroying it before the thing was able to get up and retaliate.

---

---

Help had come, with the tremendous sound of tons of metal being torn asunder. Johan leaned his Rifleman over to peer beyond the attacking Thunderbolt, he saw his friend Lyris, having charged the distance between them. She left her axe in the heavy mech and took a step back, raising her gauntlet of three lasers. The Thunderbolt, almost sensing what was going to happen, pressed forward into Johan’s battlemech, hoping to push him down or to simply crash into him. Johan had to take a stand, he took a step back with his undamaged leg and braced against the weight. A split second later, Lyris’ three lasers burned a two colored swath of destruction across the Thunderbolt’s back, but it still stood. It was Lyris’ second attack that dealt a fatal blow.

The lasers raked across the Thunderbolt’s back once more, this time finding the ammunition bin of its LRM pod. Johan’s eyes widened as he felt the first explosion, two or three missiles detonated from the heat of the laser, rupturing the warheads. Then another, like a bag of popcorn, a rapid cracking came from the Thunderbolt. Johan tried to pull away but the Thunderbolt held on, its vice grip keeping Johan close to the exploding ammo bin. A split second later, fire spewed out of the panels between armor plating, and then with a thunderclap the entire side torso erupted in an explosion. Johan grit his teeth and was rocked in his seat, his mech being peppered by shrapnel. The glass panels in front of him cracked as two pieces of shrapnel impacted against it. Johan felt the grip loosen and he took the chance to step away and twist to protect his cockpit, he saw the entire left arm of the Thunderbolt fall off, covered in soot and fire as he stepped away. He noticed Lyris doing the same on his battlemap as the ammo bin continued to cook off, shooting out rockets through the ruptured spaced between armor plating.

It was only a few seconds, but it felt like half an eternity. No words were spoken between the lance until the secondary explosions slowed.
“You still with us Mouse?” Lyris asked quietly, concerned, almost like she didn’t want to know the answer.
Johan took a second to catch his breath and keyed his communications, grabbing his canteen and splashing some water on his arms and neck, “Surprisingly yes, pilot unhurt. Rifleman minor damage all around, minor cockpit damage, right arm armor minor damage, left leg structure exposed but still functional, left torso armor low. Still combat effective.” He reported.
"Message received, glad you're still in one piece," a hint of relief in her voice, "we might need to get you a hammer or something. Fallback to the support line for now until we can secure the Opfor."

Lyris had only but a moment to take a breath, the oppressive heat of her cockpit growing beyond simple discomfort. She wiped her forehead with the back of her forearm as she sighed, by which point she noticed that the fallen TDR was beginning to rumble back to life. She cursed under her breath as her allies began to shout warnings of the immediate threat. Her eyes darted to her heat gauge which was still sitting in the red zone- she couldn't rely on her energy weapon systems without risking a shutdown. Her internels were already taking damage from the overworked core. The obnoxious red lights made sure to remind her constantly. The thought of activating override mode came to mind but was just as quickly dismissed. She might be able to push her machine further still; however, she knew she was nearing her own limit. Darkness flickered across her eyes as lights swam at the edges of her vision. Sweat was running profusely down her body as the discomfort of her cockpit rose. Still, she couldn't afford to be passive while this behemoth of steel before her regained their footing. Her mech adjusted its stance twisting its torso around so that the Griffin's right shoulder faced the TDR.

She gritted her teeth as her steed charged forward closing the gap she had made earlier. She then willed her Griffin to twist around bringing its left battle fist into play, pounding down with the momentum of her movement and striking a decisive blow onto the Thunderbolt’s damaged left section. The Thunderbolt might easily outweigh her mech ton for ton, even with a partially missing torso, but he was in an incredibly vulnerable position. Lyris might not have been the best shot in her lance, but she had always excelled in CQC. The weight of her blow came down on the TDR like the heavy hand of an angry titan. The metallic resounding echo of the blow could be heard from quite a distance. It also had the desired effect of halting the TDR's movement. For now.

She willed her mech to continue applying pressure, pushing down as the TDR's one reaming arm pushed off against the ground with the creaking of motors. She wouldn't be able to hold him forever; already he was inching up, legs adjusting to push against the ground when the opening presented itself.
"Johan!" She shouted into her comms, strain in her voice, "clear out while you can."

The boy sat for a moment, frozen. In front on him, a BattleMech rose up from the ground, battered, smoldering and half destroyed. Rising in defiance, pressing against Lyris’ attempts to keep it down. The stuff of heroes, the stuff you hear in stories, that tenacity that forged legendary pilots. Happening right in front of them. Happening against them. Johan let his jaw drop an inch, there came moments in every person’s life that defined them. Lyris made hers, choosing to hold back this mech, that had taken the combined firepower of a whole lance and still endured, to save a friend. Johan blinked and swallowed. His mech stomped forward, accelerating into a jog.

“Negative we’ll take this one together!” He replied, determination and adrenaline pumping through him. He kicked the knee of one of the Thunderbolts legs, throwing it off balance and disrupting its attempts to get back up, it fell once more with a resounding thud. Johan brought his mech over to bear once more and rose his right foot, the undamaged leg, and brought it down on the right hip joint of the Thunderbolt. He leaned into the attack, crushing through the armored skirt and crunching the hip of the Thunderbolt, his aim was to damage the hip actuator that allowed the leg to rotate. That was a risk, while the both of them were sure to take out the Thunderbolt, both of their mechs would be tied up in combat. The pirate Harassers were still unaccounted for and that meant they could appear from any direction at any time.

Wulfhart might have expected that response from Johan, he had earned his place in the lance as a proven mechwarrior just like the rest of them. Ready to face danger or even death whenever the situation called for it. It was still hard for her to break the years conditioning of her lance-mate being the meek victim of his peers. She had become so accustomed to fighting his battles it had become almost second nature- even now. It only made sense they'd have a better chance of bringing this bulwark of steel down working together than alone. She found she might be proud of him gaining such resolve, smiling despite herself. But she needed to focus on the here and now to deal with this Thunderbolt, or perhaps more precisely the pirate mechwarrior.

If his earlier reaction to the Urbie was anything to go by, Wulfhart found it hard to believe this pirate would surrender easily. They could ground him if they destroyed his damaged torso actuators. That might work, however, that could take time - time the pirate could use to either get to his feet or have his allies still standing come to his aid.

"Hold him steady," Lyris shouted over comms backing her Battlemech off as she focused her scans nearby. She was confident Johan's battlemech could keep the pirate in place better than her own Griffin ever could. At least long enough too...

There it was!

The battle hatchet she had embedded into the TDR's back had fallen free in the face of the explosions the Thunderbolt had suffered from earlier, the one-ton ax leaning beside a boulder. She knelt and swept her mech's left around, grabbing hold of the hatchets hilt and rising in the same motion with a torso twist. She made the awkward maneuver seem deceptively simple, but all it would have taken was the hatchet facing at an odd angle for her to be unable to retrieve it.

By the time she rose to her full height alarm bells had begun to sound once more in her cockpit. She had no time to properly brace for the impacts as four missiles struck her mech's right side. In an instant, a bloom of bitter fiery orange sprung to life and with it a blanket of black smoke. Two rockets beat against her Griffin's right leg, weakening the armor of the right shin and causing more severe damage to her mech's knee joint. The forth smacked against her right torso just under the arm, denting the armor there but causing mostly superficial damage from the glancing blow.

The fourth and final shot detonated against the Griffin's right shoulder, creating a spray of deadly shrapnel that could have easily led to physical injury if not for the mech's side shields that protected the pilot from attacks of that very nature. The damage overall was inconvenient but not critical; still it rocked Lyris's mech off balance all the same. In a panic, she extended her sensors to the umbrella provided by their UAVs. It seemed the two Harasser had gone wide to either flank as the Thunderbolt provided a distraction. The simple tactic had worked, though one harasser had been chased off by their two Condor escorts on the southern front.

That still left the other Harasser on the north flank; thankfully it seemed their one Plainsman escort was already moving to intercept. The damage had been done; however, Lyris fought to correct her mech in time to capitalize on the downed Thunderbolt. She should have known the Harassers would try this, but she had allowed herself to become tunnel visioned and might have lost their chance to end this quickly.

(for the sake of brevity, assuming all enemies disabled by now-NPC members of the lance.)

As the smoke and fire cleared, it appeared that Rat Lance had the advantage, with most enemies down through the efforts of the lance. The Thunderbolt pilot did the math. There was a series of small explosions at the cockpit as the head's cockpit hatch blew off its hinges and the chair went up in the air on a jet. A parachute deployed once the thing got altitude.

That's when the comms came in from 1-5, "Contacts bearing northeast of the position, three fast moving contacts at 20-40 tons each."

"1-6 here, pull back the vehicles and bring down fire on them, over. Fight's not over," Hart intoned grimly, "Let's see if we can't keep this at range."

A quick glance over lance status info on one of the cockpit displays confirmed some of what the Captain knew. His group took a beating trying to fight that beast of a TDR. It looked like they were generally alright, but that the pirate had a roving patrol that they called in when there was trouble.

Mattlov checked his own status. He had a right torso that was pretty well mangled from the ammo explosion and scrapes along the armor, but otherwise, fundamentally sound. The Shadow Hawk ran fairly cool, except that the laser spiked the heat when used and needed to be nursed along. He checked for good terrain where he could set himself with that left torso exposed but the right shielded, to take some of the incoming fire, but could find little in the basin where they'd had their fight with the Thunderbolt.

There was comm chatter on the support tac net as the vehicles coordinated a withdrawal and the spotter, heretofore quiet and out of the fight, started to coordinate the fire patterns. The Arrow VI and artillery rounds screamed overhead in their trajectory toward the oncoming enemy, looking to catch them on the advance. Midway in the trajectory, the projectiles broke up and pieces scattered on the approach, along with the notification from the spotter, "Rat Lance, sending telemetry on the location of the mines, avoid those at all costs. We're switching to conventional rounds."

"Dropship is powering up," Hart added, "But we have a window to disable it if we can handle this engagement quickly." And then they'd get answers.

The titan fell, it's carcass of wrought steel falling away as it's pilot ejected from the lifeless mass. That thundering of distant artillery mixed with the gargling fry of comms chatter like coffee and cream. With the dust clearing, Han finally found time to process everything that had just happened. It was a brief flash in the pan. All over before he could truly realize it.

This was not war as Han knew it.

His wars were controlled. Regimented. Though there was the occasion bump or bruise, Han never felt like he was in any danger back in the Nagelring; expect, perhaps, when his Lyran peers cornered him in the locker room. But he could always rely on the instructors during training. There was a safety net present, just out of sight.

Sitting in the cockpit of that Wolfhound, his head pounding and blood sticking to his gloves, Han was vividly aware that someone had taken the net away.

"Scheisse." He muttered, his chest rising and falling like the boots of a cadet in march-step. Though the immediate area had been cleared of threats, tension was still running through every muscle, tendon and joint. Try as he might, Han couldn't relax. Was he panicking? Is this what a panic attack felt like?

'Preposterous.' The boy growled in the depths of his mind. 'Bjornsons. Don't. Panic.'

Plebeians panicked. Cowards and greenhorns panicked. Civilians and the unworthy.

Noblemen did not panic. They were better than that- better than their baser fears. Han didn't hear fear in Captain Hart's voice over the comms link. Even the other cadets of the lance appeared to be holding their cool better than he. It was unbecoming of him. Unbecoming of a man of his status.

It was a fucking embarrassment to his very name.

Han squeezed his controls tight enough to threaten the circulation in his hands. He deliberately cut off his own breath, fighting to gain control over his own flesh and blood. He wouldn't succumb to this. Han carried the weight of his House's defamed name on his very shoulders, and he would not take part in dragging it through the mud. Han would not be like his father.

Willpower and time allowed him to wrestle control back. His breathing slowed, steady and rhythmic. Air filled his lungs and exited to the regimented count of one, two, three- one, two three. Each had to be delivered deliberately. Han let his fingers drop away from the throttle and sidestick, rubbing at the corners of his eyes with his sweat-soaked gloves. Children cried. He was no child. This was unacceptable.

"Ich-" He began over the radio, his voice catching. His tongue had slipped, falling back into his more familiar German in the moment. Just one more of a dozen mistakes Han had made in a matter of minutes.

"Pardon. I'll lead the push to the dropship, if you'd have me, captain." The boy's voice lacked the usual overwhelming confidence his lancemates might've become accustomed to over their short time together. It couldn't quite be described as shaky, but it was getting there.

His teeth sinking into his lower lip, Bjornson pushed down on the throttle, allowing his Wolfhound to begin it's advance toward the dropship. It loomed high above even the Olympic figure of the mech, marking it as truly colossal in size. "My probe is...offline. I would not put full trust in your instruments without it's protection in place." Han warned, the shame on his face thankfully hidden from view.

This had not been the glorious introduction to combat that Han had so often dreamed of.

With one final stomp, the Thunderbolt's pilot had enough, the pirate ejected. A quick series of muffled pops and the cockpit shot up into the sky, parachutes shooting out once the cockpit got to a sufficient altitude. It dawned on Johan that the pilot was a person just piloting a mech, when before his enemy was a furious war machine, 65t heavy and bristling with weaponry, now his enemy was a person floating back down to the ground in a metal tin. Why had that pilot gone so berserk? Johan looked to the fallen Urbanmech, now smoking. The way that Urbanmech left cover to help... Johan looked at Lyris's Griffin. If she were in that much trouble, would he rush in like the Urbanmech? He blinked in thought for a second, they might have been friends, maybe lovers, who knows. Johan marked the drifting cockpit and the fallen Urbanmech as enemy pilots for their support vehicles. Maybe the Urbanmech pilot survived, maybe the pilot was just knocked out. Johan took a few deep breaths to try and calm his heart, still hammering like a drum.

Then the communications link opened up with battle chatter once more after the few seconds of silence. A group of three fast movers, 20-40 tons, was moving at the northeast. The Harassers? Johan pointed his Rifleman towards the new threat, and just overhead a fusillade of artillery shells and missiles whistled towards the enemies. They burst midair, tossing their payloads of mines across a wide area, now marked as minefields on Johan's battlemap.

Captain Hart spoke up, "The dropship is powering up. But we have a window to disable it if we can handle this engagement quickly."
Bjornson replied quickly, offering himself to take point against the dropship, he sounded almost rattled. Johan wouldn't be surprised if everyone but Captain Hart sounded a little rattled at this point. While the patrol was still around, their flank was covered by the newly laid mines. If they ran at speed, maybe they could take out the dropship without even bothering with the group of three enemies. If they took too long fighting that patrol, a dropship could easily be armed with over a hundred LRMs, a multitude of autocannons, whole arrays of lasers and PPCs. They wouldn't have enough firepower to even get close to the dropship. Personally Johan was for attacking the dropship immediately, before they could power up their weapons, but it was up to Captain Hart personally. Johan looked to Lyris's Griffin and sent her a message,
"Are you okay?" He asked, just barely above a mutter.