EMCOTS 29

=Emergence (Concertverse) - Chapter 29=
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==Hostile Contact==
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===Tankers view of the battle===
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Outside Karten, Sanfeld River Basin
Timkovichi, Coventry Province
Lyran Commonwealth
8th January, 3143
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The Sanfeld River was one of the oldest rivers, geologically, on Timkovichi.  Estimates were that it and the associated rains of the climate had long worn what were once mountains into sloping hills, and low hills at that.  It left the soil lush and fertile as well, turning the basin into a natural breadbasket for Timkovichi.
The farmhouses that dotted the landscape about the small town of Karten were not in the business they were built for, however.  Their residents were gone, evacuated to the displacement camps that were still housing the grieving survivors of Cirenholm, as was Karten's population.  The only resident left was with the Timkovichi 24th Infantry Battalion, a surviving formation of the planetary guard currently positioned on the flank of the Timkovichi Armored Guards.
At the outskirts of Karten, a plowed field's irrigation channels created natural berms for the tanks that now sat quietly in preparation.  The Armored Guards' remaining tanks were mostly older models, survivors of the Succession Wars and the Jihad, but bolstered by a few machines salvaged from the Hell's Horses.  Those present were all lighter models, all the better to beat the fighting retreat that was expected to be necessary.  A single BattleMech - a salvaged Black Lanner hurriedly repainted in the Armored Guard’s pale blue and gray colors - stood among them as well.
The Arcadian tanks looked newer, though some bore old scars of their own.  But whatever scars they might have, there was no mistaking them for militia models.  TharDef's AFV-26 Rhino tanks were OmniVehicles, in mixed configurations for mutual support.  Most had missile launchers of some type affixed to their turrets, joined by a large cannon, a mixture of Gauss Rifles and heavy autocannons or PPCs, and anti-infantry weapons set into the sides and front.  They were among the more advanced tanks in the arsenal of the Royal Federation, powered by extra-light fusion engines that made them costly in comparison to the local forces they were forward positioned with, but allowing them to pack their weaponry, be fully armored, and still achieve a 64km/h flank speed.
Captain Marilyn Nagawa — Able Company, 2nd Battalion of the 23rd Royal Armored Regiment — poked her head from the turret of the Rhino she was riding.  It was configured with a Vickers-Armstrong Mk. 8 PPC as the main gun with a twelve-salvo Variable Charge Tactical Missile launcher - the equivalent to the locals' ATM launchers - mounted above and behind the turret's main hatch, all tied into a fire control computer system that worked the gun's elevation automatically for precision targeting.  The tank beside hers, belonging to Lieutenant Victor Neuworth as her company XO, was the only one configured with a dual-gun turret, mounting a Gauss Rifle along the centerline and another Mark 8 to the right, giving it more direct punch.  He flashed her a grin and a thumb's up while adjusting his cooling vest.  She returned the gesture.
A voice crackled over the radios.  "Forward observation's reporting more movement in the LZs.  Looks like the Falcons are forming up to push." She didn't place it, presuming it to be one of Tanhause's people or maybe a battle armor scouting party from the 16th Royal Air Cavalry Regiment.  "They're not even waiting to finish their landings."
Tanhause's voice crackled over the radio.  "Pull back as needed".  He was in tactical command of their "kampfgruppe" of mechanized infantry and armor.  A short ways behind them the 2nd Royal's 3rd 'Mech Battalion was already taking position to meet any sudden enemy aggression, but they'd face the fire first.  "Arcadian forces, don't worry about ritual here.  That's over.  When the Falcons come they'll be moving fast and hard. And keep a close eye on your warbooks; stay clear of anything packing plasma cannon."
"Roger. We'll give them a warm greeting." Nagawa promised.  She dropped back into her chair in the turret, placing her beside Lance Corporal Earl Danning, her tank's primary gunner.  She waved him off and closed the hatch before reaching for her radio controls, which she switched to the company command channel.  "This is Two-Able One.  Look alive, everyone. Expect hostile contacts any moment, and we are weapons free." 
"Hurry up and wait time." Danning said, grinning viciously.  He'd only had one fight before, she recalled, the guerrillas on Kelenfold, and they'd mostly provided distant direct fire support to the infantry sweeping the camp up.  The grin was as much bravado as it was genuine eagerness.
It was an eagerness she shared.  Better to get the fighting started and not dwell on the waiting.
A voice rang up from below, that of Private Marielou St. Michel, in a twang from Stardawn over in Alarion March.  "Scopes lighting up.  Target-rich environment, hoss!"
"Driver, ready for reverse.  Secondary Gunner, keep an eye for battle armor, the Clans will be sending that after us going by what the locals say.  Corporal."  She nodded to Danning.  "Fire for effect, biggest targets."
"Yes, sir!"  He put his eye to the scope and readied his twin firing controls.  Down below Private St. Michel would be operating by remote the eight machine guns fitted to the AFV-26's sides, rear, and frontal plate, should enemy infantry approach, and Private Hakeem al-Aswari would be ready to maneuver the tank as needed.
Ten seconds later Nagawa could feel the heat surge in the turret.  The capacitors came alive with their stored power and sent a bolt of plasma through the air.  She activated her own scope and noted that Danning, with his computerized help, had managed a direct torso hit on an oncoming enemy 'Mech, a chicken-legged machine that spat laser fire in their general direction.  One hit grazed their turret and melted some armor, but their hull-down position allowed them safety from the worst of it.  A series of muffled booms told her the missile launcher had likewise fired, sending twelve multi-stage missiles towards the Falcon 'Mech.  Half the salvo struck, chipping away armor, though only one made good on the wound carved by their main gun.
The Falcons moved forward with 'Mechs exclusively, some visibly carrying battle armor infantry on their shoulders and heads.  Missiles ripple-fired into the air, filling the sky before crashing down around Nagawa and her company.  Her tank's armor held from the impacts they took, with some strength damage.  "Firing!" Danning called out, and again a surge of heat filled the turret.  She watched this bolt crash into the shoulder and wing of a tall roughly-humanoid 'Mech.
Her heart skipped a beat at the loud hammerblow that reverberated through the turret.  The screens showed the reason; they'd taken a direct hit from a Clan Gauss Rifle that the armor managed to hold back, though at cost of significant surface material.
A glance at the scopes confirmed the matter.  The 'Mechs were close enough that, with their height, the irrigation channels and prepared berms were no longer as effective as cover.  More to the point, the Falcons had serious numbers coming their way.  "Driver, prepare for backup and turn," she said, before repeating the order to the entire company.  But she didn't give the actual retreat order, not yet; their orders were to hold as long as possible.  Retreating too early would be as dangerous as waiting too long.
"All vehicles pull back," Tanhause ordered.  "they're coming on the flanks!"
Nagawa's stomach dropped at that.  This many enemies, all at once?  This wasn't just some clearing of the Falcon LZ, they were beginning their push now. How insane are these people?  They can't have unloaded much yet, they're going for an offensive now?!  "Able Company, pull back to second line!" she ordered.  The Rhino vibrated from the power shifting from its fusion engine to the transmission, sending the treads into motion.  The vibration was drowned out by another loud bang and echo, a direct hit from another Gauss round, this time on their glacis plate.  Yet the armor held again, while more missiles came down around them.  A laser stabbed the air just over the scope, lightly grazing the Rhino turret.
"Laser hit on missile launcher," said Corporal Awilo Longomba, the vehicle engineer and second-in-command.  "Looks like a glancing shot, tubes are intact and weapon's still loading."
Nagawa felt the thunderous vibration of the multi-stage missiles firing yet again.  It was still the long range missiles being used.  Al-Aswari turned the tank while Danning kept the turret facing towards the foe.  The PPC fired yet again.  She was pleased to see it tear through the reversed knee joint of a chicken-legged 'Mech in emerald, slowing the machine to a limp.
"Two-Able Eight here, we just took a track hit while turning, speed's impaired."  The voice was one of her sergeants, Julian Kalonji.
The voice of Lieutenant Ludwig von Holst, one of her lance commanders, beat her to the punch.  "Abandon if you have to, we'll—"
A brief roar drowned out von Holst's voice in the split second before the line cut.  Nagawa's gut clenched in the moment before noting that Two-Able Five disappeared from her small tactical screen.
"Looks like a direct penetrating hit on the Lieutenant's machine.  There's one survivor crawling free," another voice said.  "Moving to pick up if possible."
"Negative on that," Nagawa ordered, hating herself for it.  "They're coming too fast.  Keep falling back."
"But-"
"That is an order, Sergeant."  God forgive me for giving it.  But I won't lose five more to save one.
"We've got 'er," another, unfamiliar voice said, and it took Nagawa a second to process that it was one of Tannhause's people.  "Just give us the cover fire we need."
"You've got it," she replied, grateful for the effort.  A closer inspection of the tactical picture confirmed the Falcons were already fully on their flanks.  They'd be doomed save the Falcons seemed more interested in pushing ahead.  They might try to surround us. I hope those 'Mechs get here soon…
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===Marching orders===
TWith her troops landing, Stephanie transferred from White Aerie to the DropShip Silverwing and joined the initial landing.  Delta's core Clusters were going first, having won the bidding by margins of individual Stars given the Mongol commanders like Isaac refused to even budge on their bids.  It was another dissatisfying reminder of how far from the Honor Road Malvina Hazen brought the Clan, and how important it was that she win this battle and set the Falcons back on the path of Kerensky.
The holotank in the Silverwing's command center displayed a tactical overview of the unfolding battle.  Star Colonel Lisa Hazen was living up to her expectations, pushing the 53rd Talon Cluster forward aggressively against the enemy's defense line and already had their forward position outflanked.  A swift campaign is precisely what I wish.  The sooner I break these Arcadians, the more quickly I can get back to Sudeten and consolidate with Beckett.
That would likely have to include some re-assignments, of course, and even some Trials of Grievance to deal with the most aggressive, vicious Mongols.  She had half a mind to send them to the Reach, or the borders with the Bears, but only if it didn't prejudice the Clan's readiness to continue their campaign, or defend what they'd conquered.
This battle may just be the beginning, she thought.  They still knew so little about the other side after all, and what kind of force was present there.  We know they have more ships, but how many more?  How great are their armies?  What kind of foe are we dealing with?  Is an offensive even feasible if these Arcadians come through in strength, and we cannot find a way to block the anomaly?  We can't keep our WarShips here forever.
"My Khan."  The voice of her adjutant, Star Captain Hannibal, prompted her head to rise.  The unblooded Elemental warrior, of the Icaza Bloodhouse, kept his spine straight while towering over her.  "The other Clusters are ready to advance as well, as soon as you are prepared."
"The 53rd Talon won the bidding, so they shall be given more time to win glory before we press everything.  Have those clusters ready to advance at my notice."  Her eyes drifted back to the holotank.  The lead enemy tank unit was already showing several casualties even if they weren't being pressed on the flanks.  They were falling back regardless.  Perhaps I should intercede and give the order to cut them off… but no, I must show faith in my subordinates.  Let them win their share of glory as well.  This may be the most important battle of our lives, and there will be plenty of glory for all before it is done.
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===Skirmishes with Falcon===
Riding in the turret basket of a lightweight Fox scout vehicle was, Jacob Tanhause had to acknowledge, a very different experience to the ride of an assault tank.
And, he added silently, sweeping the turret scopes for a target, it’s one I’d have been happy to forgo.But he needed to see what was happening, and the Fox’s comms and sensors were the best the Armored Guard had.
“Got one, boss-man!” That was PFC Jacqui Wilks at the com/scan board, faint strains of thumping crash music coming from the earbud she wasn’t wearing to accommodate her headset. “Eyrie at one-three-one, just inside reach for the new med beamer.”
Jacob slewed the turret to that bearing, ignoring the informality and thanking the Kell Hound techs who’d replaced the standard ER Medium Laser with a Clan-spec model. There; the tall, lanky shape of the light ‘Mech, its stubby missile pod-arms framing the beak-like cockpit module. Off-white smoke swallowed it for a moment as it lofted a missile salvo; and Jacob double-checked his firing solution.
“Check readiness,” he called down, “we’re only going to get one shot at this.” The tac feeds showed that clearly; their line starting to bend back under Falcon pressure.
Corporal Cal Lopis - the usual vehicle commander - didn’t answer in words, just the whine of the Fox’s drive fans as he spun them up, ready to slide along the irrigation ditch they were hull-down in.
“All Echo-Four elements,” Wilks called over the lance net, “boss-man wants to know none of you’ve sloped off for a smoke.”
“Four-Four here, Jacks. Tried that before; got wet.” Less irreverent acknowledgements came back from the other two vehicles. Jacob breathed out at that, slowly and calmly.
“Echo Four-Two and Four-Three, engage,” he ordered, squeezing the firing stud. A beam of cyan light slashed a semi-molten across the Eyrie’s torso, long-range missiles and light-caliber autocannon shells from the pair of Condors raining down around its legs. Plumes of earth and water, and shards of armor, scattered away from the Falcon machine, It hunched down for a moment, the MechWarrior inside fighting to keep its footing. Then it steadied, set itself, and charged, jump jets igniting and lifting it forward.
Exactly what we wanted. “Boot it, now!” Jacob called, pulling the safety straps tighter and bracing himself as things started to happen very fast indeed.
The Fox slid sideways, Jacob’s gut feeling the unsettling cast of the motion as he slewed the turret around; the Eyrie crashed down where they’d been - agile on the ground, in the air it maneuvered like bricks didn’t. It loomed overhead like an avatar of death, light-gauge pulse lasers flashing water into steam as its fire  - interlaced with the cyan bolts of the Fox’s own pulse lasers - chased them.
Then Echo Four-Four unmasked.
Sliding out of a side channel, molten armor splattered from the Eyrie’s pulse lasers clipping the Destroyer’s armored hull and lift skirts as it interposed itself between the Fox and the Falcon’s gunnery. In response, the Destroyer’s autocannon roared, firing at maximum rate; twelve-centimeter shells ripping both the Eyrie’s legs away in midthigh. The torso crashed facedown into the channel, wedged tightly enough it couldn’t adjust its missile pods, or even try to free itself.
“Good kill, good kill!” Four-Four’s commander yelled, strafing burst of machine-gun fire across the Eyrie’s cockpit module.
“Okay people, let’s get out of here before that idiot’s heavy backup gets in reach,” Jacob ordered, seeing the blue-gold icons of Arcadian ‘Mechs moving up on the tac display for their part of playing matador. “We’re not fighting it out here; just trying to bloody their noses.”
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Singh watched the holographic indicators of the battle with quiet thoughtfulness.  The icons were simple boxes, marked to represent companies of vehicles or 'Mechs or infantry soldiers, but each was made up of dozens of living, breathing human beings, many of whom would not be doing either things when the day ended.
A quarter of a century ago, it'd been him out there, piloting a Leopard in the Giausar Rangers, then moving up to a Fusilier in the Royal Giausar Rifles, 2nd Free March Cavalry.  He would still dream of the carnage he and his comrades faced, fighting the 7th Galedon Regulars on Shionoha, having to flee Cebalrai when the Galedonian reinforcements arrived and their broken brigade could do nothing but run with DropShips encumbered by refugees fleeing whatever the Kuritanizing Galedonians had in store for them.  He envied the 2nd Royal Cuirassiers their "never beaten" record, and could only pray it would not be broken under his command.
Now, he'd have different nightmares.  Of all the thousands of his men and women who were going to die in the coming weeks, just like the comrades he'd lost.
The 3rd Battalion engaged the advancing Falcon 53rd Talon with practiced efficiency.  Lieutenant Colonel Dempsey was in the field directly, commanding from her Chieftain Assault OmniMech, and by reports already engaged in bringing fire down while directing the fire companies of the 3rd on the enemy unit pressing against them.  Tanhause's kampfgruppe fell back under their support, their losses real but manageable.
"Giving them a quick sock to the nose might just do the job," Huston said.  "Especially if they're not used to fighting equals."
"More likely it'll just excite them," Nadia answered.  "Delta Galaxy's been sitting things out so far, this is their chance for a real scrap.  And odds are Galaxy Commander Chistu's going to push them hard to roll us over, she's a strong candidate for Khan by our intel."
Singh nodded but said nothing, his attention entirely on the holotank's display.  One of Weiss's squadrons, a full twelve Thunderstrike close support fusion-powered strike aerofighters, appeared at the edge and engaged.  Their icon blipped rapidly until they finished their attack runs and fell back.  Numbers flashed over the icon to confirm their losses; four of twelve fighters were destroyed by enemy anti-air and five heavily damaged.  I hope their efforts made the loss worth it.
The lights continued their movements, peaceful flashes of color compared to the violence of modern combat that they represented, while minutes passed like hours.  He felt a hope he didn't want to feel, that they could repulse this strike, lock the Falcons down, bloody them and buy time for the Ghastillian and Arcadian fleets to arrive and throw the Falcon WarShips back.
Shawcross spoke up with a grim tone.  "Sir, positive identification from the reconnaissance lances, more enemy forces are pushing from the LZ.  It looks like they're coming up on the 3rd's flanks."
So much for that thought.  Singh nodded. "Have Dempsey pull back, then.  Task the reserve battle groups to support them on their flanks as they maneuver to the rear."
"Yes, General," he said, undoubtedly having already arranged the order for execution.
So the battle begins, and already we must retreat.  How long might we hold this world against the enemy's strength?  I pray that our superiors do not make us find out.
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EMCOTS 29