[dcs_p]Looking out again to the surrounding mountains and valleys, Drake eyed just the
thing he was looking for. Far across the empty highlands, a shadowy hulk moved
through the snow. The figure’s obvious twin shoulders arched up into the blue
sky, giving Drake a clear indication of what it was. His unit’s only heavy `Mech, a
70-ton Guillotine, seemed to be making an advance towards the Firestarter’s
location. Though the Guillotine lacked its original weapons configuration, the
retro-fitted and jury-rigged laser array it currently sported would prove more than
enough for the light enemy `Mech. There was only one problem for Drake and
the pirate infantry in his immediate area; they were going to have to hold out
against the 35-ton monster for several minutes before the Guillotine could initiate
its attack.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Pumping his hands in an attempt to keep them from freezing, Drake hastily pulled
his radio mic up to his mouth, accidentally freezing the piece of metal to his runny
nose for an instant. Though the weather was cold now, he knew it would be all
the worse in less than an hour. Ordering this retreat would require an abrupt end
to the firefight that his men were now engaged in. All the better. The battle
would be over as soon as the sun set. The technologically superior Breaker’s unit
would make short work of the Kurakoa platoons if they had not successfully
withdrawn by that time.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]The distant explosions of a passing air battle cried out a sharp warning. Fearing
the worst, Drake guessed that the last of his aerospace support had been
destroyed. The piercing screech of metal on metal sounded out just as he
glanced overhead. Suddenly a wave of heat rushed over the battlefield, bringing
an eerie yet comfortingly warm touch to Drake’s chapped skin. A gutted Shilone
fighter, falling from the lower atmosphere, met the cold embrace of Merutia’s
blanketed valley. With a horrible crash, the Shilone wreckage disappeared into
the snowy drifts several meters away.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]“Good Lord…” he thought aloud, his words fading under an ocean of horror. The
Shilone, the Kurakoa pirate group’s largest aerospace fighter and personal craft
of the team’s head wingman, had buried two of his nearby men when it had hit
the ground.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]“Fall back! Fall back!” Drake screamed to his men. As the nearby wreckage
began to burn, the wind carried its poisonous stench across the stark white
valley. Covering his face from the stinging cold and noxious fumes, he noticed the
fighter’s cockpit had been ripped away by what seemed to be heavy autocannon
or missile fire. Though he was filtering the air with the heavy sleeve of his coat,
Drake swore he could smell bloody carnage somewhere within the blackish
brown smoke. Drake decided to begin the retreat immediately. He began
motioning to nearby infantry as he moved away from the crash site. Abe
Hamilton. An aerospace pilot I met over twenty years ago on Miranda. Another
one lost…[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]“Carrier A to all available units. Initiate backup plan B6. Treadmark Six, you’ve
got the skies covered from now on.” Though he trusted his men on Six, Drake
failed to see how any of the ground infantry and armor would be able to provide
much surface to air support with the primitive equipment they had. “Treadmark
Four, Treadmark Four. I want cover fire at extreme ranges, regardless of any
other problems you’ve got at the moment, Martin. We need that Firestarter’s
attention and we need it now, over.”[/dcs_p]