Robert Thurston - Legend of the Jade Phoenix Trilogy 01 - Falcon Guard.pdf - Robert Thurston - allforjesus2001

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First Priming, December, 1991 1098765432 1

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Cover: Bruce Jensen

Interior illustrations: Jeff Laubenftein

Mechanical drawings: Steve Venters

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To the memory of my parents

Prologue

Star Captain Joanna, in her darkest fantasies, saw herself dying with a

projectile ripping through her body, or incinerated in a BattleMech, or

destroyed by a lucky shot from an enemy MechWarrior's weapon. In her wilder

nightmares, she imagined being murdered in her bed by a vile freebirth, or

mauled by a bloodthirsty creature on some planet where she was stranded, or

perhaps ejecting successfully from the cockpit of her 'Mech only to drown in a

deep lake before she could free herself from the restraints of her ejection

seat. Once she had dreamed that the best death would come in heroic combat or

even during a Trial of Bloodright, where she would meet her end in a ferocious

final round of the competition for a Blood-name.

But now her dreams had faded, for she had become an old warrior. She still

piloted a 'Mech as a warrior of Clan Jade Falcon, but no longer would any

Bloodnamed warrior sponsor her for a slot in any Trial of Bloodright. Without

a nomination, Joanna's only hope for eligibility was to take part in a Grand

Melee, but to that she would never stoop. (Joanna knew of only one warrior who

had eventually won his Bloodname via that route, and the man was high on the

long list of people she despised.) Her best hope now was cremation after death

so that her ashes would return to the same sibko system that had spawned her

existence, to be blended with the amniotic fluid of the artificial wombs.

Without a Bloodname, Star Captain Joanna could never achieve the ultimate goal

of all Clan warriors, the inclusion of her genes in the sacred

8 Robert Thurston

gene pool. Letting that dream die had been the most difficult of all, even

after Joanna realized she would never win a Bloodname. Since then she had

added an even more dread possibility to her fantasies about death, this one of

surviving to the time when she would die in her bed either from disease or

sheer old age. Of all the ends she could imagine, that was the most appalling.

Despite all the conjectures, Joanna had never foreseen being buried alive

while trapped in the cockpit of her 'Mech, which was exactly where she was at

this moment. The Clan invasion of the Inner Sphere had been going on for nine

months now, and Joanna had just been assigned as a replacement to the Falcon

Guards. Almost immediately after she had reported to the Cluster commander,

Star Colonel Adler Malthus, the Cluster had been ordered to defend against an

Inner Sphere counterattack on theplanet Twycross.

The Falcon Guards had been traversing a pass called the Great Gash, when a

single, battered Inner Sphere Hatchetman crested the ridge line. The

BattleMech pilot identified himself as Kai Allard-Liao and issued a clumsy

batchall for the pass. The enemy's bravery was admirable, but Star Colonel

Adler Malthus went too far. Instead of simply refusing to grant Clan-warrior

status to an Inner Sphere MechWarrior, he halted the Cluster's advance, and

went out to finish off the Inner Sphere warrior alone. Star Colonel Malthus

advanced and raised the arms of his Summoner to smash the Gash's defender into

rubble, but before the blow could land, the Hatchetman exploded.

As though in sympathy, the Great Gash itself blew apart, sending rocks and

dirt spouting and flying, boulders bouncing off the surface of Joanna's

Hellbringer with a horrible clanging that nearly deafened her. Then another

nearby *Mech exploded, and before Joanna knew what had happened, she was

staring through her viewport at a wall of geological debris. With enough air

trapped in the Hell-bringer's cockpit to keep her going for awhile, she kept

her panic at bay, using the 'Mech's still-functional computer to calculate the

compartment's volume plus the amount of air that might still remain in the

circulation system. It looked like it might be enough to survive for at least

fifteen minutes, perhaps more. Who could be sure?

FALCON GUARD 9

When it came to survival, the human organism sometimes went beyond its own

limitations. Perhaps she had even more precious moments than she estimated.

Joanna briefly considered using some of the deep' concentration techniques she

had learned during warrior training so long ago. By slowing her breathing

profoundly, she might be able to remain alive even longer. Then she decided to

hell with it. She needed her wits about her and did not particularly want to

sink into some deep meditative funk. What she needed now was to keep her mind

busy enough to figure a way out of here.

With so much of her Hellbringer apparently still operational, Joanna thought

that perhaps she might still accomplish some miracle. Was she not a warrior,

the product of a scientific program that engineered the production of superior

humans by mating only the most superior genes? Add to that the abilities of

the massive piece of fighting machinery called a BattleMech—and who knew what

might be possible? Joanna had neither much faith nor liking for humanity in

general, but she had confidence to spare in herself. As for 'Mechs—she

respected them to the point of reverence.

She tried her communications system, which produced plenty of crackle and

static, but no response from anyone on the line. Perhaps it was because fallen

rock and dirt had cut off communications. Or perhaps all the other Jade Falcon

warriors were as trapped in their 'Mechs as she was, but had not escaped

death. Scanners proved inoperable also, so she could not tell how deep she and

her machine were buried in the debris.

Staring at her secondary screen, Joanna tested other systems. It was

immediately obvious that operating any of her weapon systems would be

dangerous. If she tried to fire any of them, the weapon would simply explode

and that would be the end of her. A mercifully quick end, to be sure, but not

the one she craved.

Neither of the 'Mech's arms seemed functional, either, so she could not use

them to dig herself out. Then she tried the right leg. Nothing.

The left leg, however, surprised her. She felt it strain at her attempts to

move it, though that was about all. When she switched her concentration to the

left foot, at first it failed to respond. With a little more effort, she

10 Robert Thurston

felt it move, but ever so imperceptibly. Not much more than a twitch, but

movement nonetheless. Pressing the foot pedal that operated the 'Mech's legs,

Joanna tried again to move the left foot forward. This time it seemed to budge

slightly. Not much, but enough to keep her trying.

Bit by bit, she kept at it until she had the left foot moving more freely. Now

she made it slide from side to side, each time sensing its movement to be

easier. If only her sensors were working, she could get an external view of

the leg's movements and thus a clearer idea of its cur* rent mobility.

The air in the cockpit was getting hotter, the excess of carbon dioxide making

her dizzy. No telling how much time she had left. But then, what did it matter

when the time you had left was all the time you had left?

She decided to try to kick out with the Hellbringer's leg. A dumb maneuver in

most battles, but one that might prove useful when buried alive. Working the

foot pedal, she was pleased and astonished to feel the whole leg wrench free.

Then she kicked again, laughing aloud just to feel the leg's freedom. With

that kick, Joanna had a sense of the outward thrust dislodging even more rock

and dirt. That was a start, she decided. With her next kick, she noticed a

slight movement of the 'Mech at hip level. Perhaps it was the 'Mech's design

that was working in her favor. The machine's wide shoulders might be blocking

any further avalanche of debris from tumbling down to re-bury the 'Mech's leg,

while the outward thrust of the hip was giving it sufficient leverage to

escape from the trap.

Joanna was beginning to feel drowsy, her lids wanting to flutter shut. The air

was very close. If only she could get the cleaner working again, it might be

the difference between escape and death—a matter of minutes. She swallowed

hard, with a sense that she might not ever be able to swallow again. Then she

swallowed once more, just to prove it was not true. Joanna had always been

stubborn, whether in jeopardy or at ease.

She realized now that she had no more time to wait through the minuscule gains

won with each slight move of her 'Mech. She would be dead long before she

could get to good air.

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

12 Robert Thurston

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.

Robert Thurston - Legend of the Jade Phoenix Trilogy 01 - Falcon Guard.pdf

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