Resurgence - Cataclysm Chapter 16
January 11th, 3153
Word of Blake LZ Alpha, Albion (Between the Thames and Cris River)
0630
A mech’s hand grabs a damaged Cavalier Battle Armor trooper suit that has been disarmed. One of the many prisoners taken by the Word of Blake. The Grim Reaper raises it in the air and then throws the trooper. Avitue is in a blinding rage. The suit slams and ruptures against the hull of the dropship. While some extremities fall off the rest of it slides down the hull leaving a bloody smear.
One reason is that her daughter was captured in the fighting the night before. The other reason is failure of her allies. Her command staff is standing at the top of the hangar ramp watching her pace her Grim Reaper back and forth in front of her Fortress dropship, Steeled Light. There are a great number of Shadow Division warriors looking on as well. “The only possible way they pulled that off is if someone found those damn Comstar traitors! The Sea Foxes are good for absolutely NOTHING!” she screams in anger over the external speaker system.
“This was our chance to kill the First Prince, the AFFS command structure, and secure the planet before any of their allies could be called in….” She takes a few more steps forward then stops her mech. “We could have even done it before the slip tear!”
“What do we even have to show for it?! We have lost two Swordships and only have two heavily damaged Warships left!”
“Precentor, if I may,” Precentor Magnus tries to interject, “We can still go on the attack, it will be at least twenty-four hours before the bulk of their ships arrive…” Avitue turns her Grim Reaper toward the Precentor talking to her over the direct comms from the hangar. “We can do boarding actions; our Demons will overpower the defenders on the ships. We could turn their own guns on their allies when they arrive!”
She is silent, her Grim Reaper just peering at Magnus. “It was your responsibility to find the Comstar traitors before we even reached Abbeville. While myself and the Shadow Divisions were in cryo you were in command of the entire formation.” She pauses for a second, “wait… You must be…”
“Spector Precentor, I can assure you that the Sea Foxes were given all the data necessary to…” he starts to feel extremely hot for a split second and before he can touch his chest to find out why a Medium Laser from the Grim Reaper burns a hole through his chest. The gaping wound is cauterized by the heat and he falls to the deck, his clothes burst into flames, and his body flops down the ramp a couple meters leaving the others with looks of shock on their faces. She waits for a moment, for effect, before turning to the rest of the onlookers.
“This is not over. The Swordship still has tremendous firepower and is already repairing the two Warships. We also have the factories on Brunswick, except at Ith. All units, prepare for new assignments. I am taking personal command of our corridor forces. They may have won the battle last night but, they have not tempered our resolve.” After the public address she ascends the ramp. Making sure not to stomp on the dead Precentor’s corpse, it is left as a warning.
***
January 11th, 3153
Word of Blake LZ Alpha, Albion (Between the Thames and Cris River)
Steeled Light
0700
Deciding not to shower just yet, Avitue moves to the detention cells on the ship to find Lady Joy in hand and ankle cuffs in a cell. “So, you are Lady Joy… the ‘soul’ of the troops?”
“I am a Nomad Republic Knight and care for those under my command.” Joy responds calmly and without looking up.
“Hmmpf… I bet you wish your lancemate’s mech was on top of yours now and not the other way around.” Avitue taunts.
“No, even being captured was worth it to protect my fellow Mechwarrior.”
“Get used to that cell, you won’t be leaving it again. And you best pray they don’t do anything to Avi…” The Spector Precentor trails off then walks away without letting Joy respond. Avitue looks through the cells on her way out of the corridor and sees the different prisoners they took from the AFFS and Nomads.
Avitue arrives in her quarters a few minutes later and throws herself onto the carpeted floor. Just metal and tight weave but it feels amazing… Closing her eyes for a brief moment she begins relaxing. But, then she can start to feel it again. The cryogenic process, while much more advanced than after the Jihad, it still has many shortfalls. All the wakeups over the years along with the old cryo tech has left her mind a mess that she can’t seem to fix it… yet. At least I could make sure Avi only got the best equipment…
She waits a few minutes then rises from the deck. Washing off the sweat from the battle is relieving. She can feel the exhaustion but she needs to iron out the day’s plans before she takes any rack time. Now in a fresh, full uniform rather than the very light Mechwarrior gear she moves towards the lift to the bridge and war room.
As she arrives, she sees that the remaining command staff is present and working through reports and logs. One of the men is a ROM operative assigned to the invasion fleet, Poltergeist Precentor Sigma Camio. Another officer present is Ghost Demi-Precentor Omicron Lechies from Ranford. “Ma’am, we have received a response from Precentor Oze, he is staging and will be ready soon after his forces return from their objectives through the Calderon Protectorate. Most have assembled so it will not be too long.” Camio begins. He is tall man wearing a black, hooded robe. At least one eye glows a sickly green beneath the shadow of the hood.
Lechies shifts to the situation at hand, “That will not help us right now though. We must sort out what to do with so many losses. Some reinforcements were expected, not two Clans and the Capellans that were just killing FedSuns en masse days ago.”
“Brek will be very displeased that his Operation Blindside failed this dramatically. I will also be having an intense conversation with him.” Avitue says as she tries to hold back her anger.
“As you should, Precentor. Our current situation is bleak though. The Swordship can get us out of the system, however, we still control fifty percent of Albion and seventy-five percent of Brunswick.” Lechies responds, “We may not want to sacrifice such gains.”
“I concur,” adds Camio. “We must begin preparing for a number of strategies. Based on readings from the inbound vessels, especially with the Rasalhague, our Swordship and two remaining Warships are hopelessly outgunned. They may be able to keep the allied forces at bay for a short time but they will eventually be crushed. My proposal is that we send the remaining fleet out of the system and hold up in our controlled cities where the AFFS will not use orbital bombardment. The only reason they used it in Novais is because we nuked a large portion of the city and they became desperate.”
“Your idea is valid,” Lechies begins, “I agree with sending the fleet out of the system, however I would take the staging one step further. We control seventy-five percent of Brunswick.” He continues as he waves his hand over the global map on the holotable. “I suggest we pull all of our forces to Brunswick, make a sudden push on Ith, take it and secure the continent. We will need to launch a diversionary attack here to keep them from further overwhelming us there. Then we will need subsequent insurgent activity to keeps forces committed to Albion.”
Both men look to Avitue as she contemplates. “Both of you forget that they took Avi in the fighting last night. We need her back. We should launch a counter attack and send in teams of mimetic armor to rescue her before choosing where to go.”
“Ma’am, with all due respect,” Lechies interrupts, “We do not have the time for a raid. The bulk of their forces are at Davion Palace and Avalon City. They are already raiding into Barrington as we speak.”
Avitue glares at Lechies, “Then now would be an excellent time to try to sneak past them. They are hurt and going to start spreading out. We can use the chaos to our advantage.”
“Lechies is right, a mission like this requires operatives that we have very few of, especially after yesterday. If they have her in the basement of the palace or Mount Davion the likelihood of success in such a mission isn’t greater than five percent.”
Avitue glares at Camio now. Sometimes I wish they were just ‘yes men’. But my head is killing me. Cryo migraines are hell. She grimaces and raises her voice, “Avi is my daughter and will one day command the forty fourth! She may even rule New Avalon. We will not leave her to be tortured and executed!”
“Precentor Avitue, we understand your concern!” Camio meets her vocal level, “What then if you stretch us too thin and they crush us while we await the rescue team’s return? What if they have yet to discover her significance among the other faithful they have captured? Launching a rescue mission telegraphs that they have someone of irreplaceable value among their captives. You know she can be overly aggressive in combat and that is exactly where she failed, even with the two Omegas you lost to the Snow Raven strafing runs while trying to cover her!”
“Watch your words Camio, you are not beyond me!” Avitue steps forward with one foot, still glaring at him. She can see his green eye change shades and flutter for a split second. “What are you doing?!” she asks aggressively.
“You are clearly out of character beyond the anger of our current situation. I can detect your vital signs and you are experiencing a neurological response, likely a cryo migraine. Is that true?” he asks in an almost mechanically calm voice.
She clenches her teeth, “I am… and what of it?”
“Your decision-making process is being disrupted by something out of your control. We will not decide on a course of action now. I will actively ensure the perimeter is being guarded around the LZ and that we lose as little ground as we can at Barrington. As for you, Spector Precentor, you need your medication and rest.” He makes this statement with the same level tone of voice, clearly not interested in further debate. Just as any military, they have ways of relieving commanding officers. Camio does not desire to take that course of action.
“That… is acceptable…” Avitue responds through still gritted teeth. She turns toward the hatch and departs the war room. Both Camio and Lechies watch her leave.
“Do we know if she can keep it together?” Lechies asks Camio.
“Negative, this is entirely new ground. Given our medication enhancements and cryo mimicry sleep devices they have helped when we awoke certain leadership, temporarily, over the years. However, for extended combat operations that we have not taken part in for nearly a century, we do not have existing data. A significant multiplier is the capture of her daughter.” Camio responds coldly but, with unrestricted clarity of thought.
Blake’s blood this ROM operative is always cold as steel. “That is similar to my thoughts as well. After this discussion I think we should move everyone to Brunswick with the objective to conquer the entire continent.” Lechies shares.
“Agreed, that leaves the fleet.” Camio brings up a hologram image of the Swordship with the two Warships docked and various other nearby assault dropships and aerospace fighters. “At least we still have the aerospace carrier.”
“Once that Leviathan II arrives, it is over. If the Lord Death wasn’t here, we could potentially counter attack right now. They have to leave and on the ground we will use the cities as cover so they won’t try an orbital bombardment with so many civilians in close proximity. We must now wait for reinforcements of our own. Should the staggering of forces continue we should be able to crush them before they can further reinforce should they call in more distant units.” Lechies runs his index finger and thumb on the sides of his chin as he continues to think.
“Fair enough, let’s keep this as the tentative plan. The upgrades Comstar gave their less advanced drives could burn them out so they will not use them unless absolutely necessary. Either way, we cannot stay in this location on Albion because once they have air and space superiority this open region is ripe to be bombarded.” Concludes Camio.
Chapter 17