[dcs_p]He pondered whether or not he could take the coward’s way out, to escape and
live another day. He’d done it before. On Wasat he’d fought the Blakists. He’d
helped lead the retreat at the end of that mess.
Run away.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]The concept haunted him. Even now.
It was true. He had run. But in running, he’d also saved lives that day.
On Miranda, he’d stopped the enemy cold and rallied his unit to a victory. But
he’d ejected in the Stricken Desert, choosing life over a glorified death. Why had
he done it? What forces had driven him to change?[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]His culture had partially faded, and he’d faded as a person with that change. He
hoped what was left was good enough for his Clan. The Nova Cats did not judge
lightly after all.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]This night itself might prove to be the ultimate test for the Strider’s Strikers. They
would be judged by their ability to defend Nova Cat territory. Tonight’s attack
was a direct move against Devon’s Clan, home, and way of life. He would do all
he could against any immediate threats he would face. He felt he could not eject.
In this battle, one graver than any he’d predicted before, every second he was in
this cockpit would matter. His was the warrior way tonight.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Already three enemy Mechs lay strewn across the battlefield in so many pieces.
Piloting his 100-ton Direwolf around the base had seemed ridiculous at first, but
the vision had come true. It was the Blakists. They were out for blood, pure and
simple. He knew it in their piloting style. He was no stranger to their Mechs
either. A 45-ton Blue Flame here, an 80-ton Legacy there, and the most
disturbing of all, a 55-ton Kintaro. Two purely Blakist designs and something
obviously of Kuritan design.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]The Black Dragons were involved again. This was the same sort of attack as
before. But this time the Strikers had been caught off-guard even worse than in
’65. The Dragons were not happy with their last failed investment. This time they
were here to finish the job.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Devon silently promised to himself: They will get only hellfire from me.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Andrew Allen could not believe his eyes.
From the other side of the Mech shed, a shadow moved out of the darkness. It
rounded the corner of the building in two great strides as its upper body spun to
face inside the open shed. The shape was easy to recognize. He’d seen it
dozens of times in the simulators.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]A Nexus. Word of Blake. Again. Without thinking, Andrew fired his pistol at the
machine.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Andrew failed to get the pilot’s attention. The enemy before him was concerned
more with what was inside the Mech shed instead. If Marc hadn’t gotten the
Spider up and running by now, he too would be out of luck. Marc was
out-gunned and facing a readied enemy. He was in the same place as Andrew.
He is screwed.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Marc fired. His two lasers hit the Nexus center-chest.
A decent hit.[/dcs_p]