This is a personal narrative by Sub Commander Clarson Kelly of the Pursuit Lance, Miller's Company, Tenth Chesterton Reserves of the Capellan Confederation; a participant in the engagement and subsequent pursuit of the irregular bandit forces which raided Carver V a year before the Fourth Succession War. Our correspondents in that area have assured us that corroborating evidence indicates that this story is a true representation of what occurred during the raid, and not just a bar room tale. While we at BattleTechnology are sceptical, we'll let our readers decide for themselves. This is Sub Commander Kelly's first contribution to BattleTechnology. Dimeo Kitakami is a freelance journalist who covers the border regions of the Federated Suns and House Liao. We hope to have more first hand material from Mr Kitakami in future issues of BattleTechnology. They say that if you survive to keep up this MechWarrior business to a ripe old age, you will have seen everything there is to see under a thousand different suns. After my last operation I can finally believe it . The bandit raid on Carver V was a real minor affair. For us, it amounted to no more than an additional training exercise. Those bandits were a real sorry lot. They must have been at the end of their rope to have even attempted a quick resupply run into Carver V. They had to know we were there. I mean, the Chesterton Reserves have used this planet as a training base for years. These guys must have been berserkers or something. We got a fix on their DropShip coming in from the zenith JumpPoint about four hours before they were to hit atmosphere. The Chesterton Reserves were always Aerospace fighter-poor, and what we had stationed with us on Carver V had recently been transferred to another unit to take part in a raid on Davion Space. So we had no orbital cover at all and didn't really know what was dropping down on us. It could have been a crack regiment of Davion Guards. But soon evidence would point away from that possibility. Far away. The bandits dropped in off their rust heap of a DropShip at about 20,000 feet. No AeroSpace fighters were deployed with them so I guess we lucked out. They were only coming in with seven or eight 'Mechs so we had them outnumbered about six to one planetwide. The only problem with that was our units were spread all over the main continent protecting what we thought were th most likely targets for a raid. As usual, there were a lot more targets than there were units to guard them. The Bandit 'Mechs followed their ship down to a bumpy landing near Desmond, a small hamlet that was used as one of our emergency supply points. At least they knew something about the layout around here. Desmond contained a two warehouse complex with may be a platoon of locals covering it with hand-held weapons and one Strident Anti-Air Missile Launcher that had seen better days. It got off three shots before a Phoenix Hawk targeted it and blew it off the defense tower it had been mounted on. I heard that one of the missiles actually damaged a Stinger's leg actuators which caused it to limp for the rest of the raid. The local defense platoon fared better than the Strident and her crew. They only had two SRM launchers assigned to them and five plus 'Mechs were coming down on their heads. They bugged out as quick as they could in whatever they could. Hell, I would've done the same thing. The bandits just ignored them and started moving in on the warehouses after they landed. they were trying for a quick in, quick out operation but we were going to disappoint them. Miller's Company was the closest unit to Desmond when the raid came down. Our area of responsibility encompassed two major and four minor targets and Captain Miller had dispersed the three Lances of the unit so that we could get at least some firepower to all the objectives as quickly as possible. Desmond was one of the minor targets closest to the coast. Only the Command Lance and my Pursuit Lance were close enough to have a chance to get there in time. Commander Gunther had us on the run in no time and we met up with the Command Lance less than half an hour later. Captain Miller didn't try to get to the town in time to stop the Bandits from taking what they wanted. He had us on overdrive toward the path of retreat that the bandits would have to take. Our eight 'Mechs were jumping it to get in between them and their DropShip. It had landed on a grassy plain some fifteen klicks from the town instead of the rougher terrain close in to the town. They had taken the better odds that reinforcements couldn't get to them by the time they could travel the distance, rather than taking the more dangerous tactic of landing their one and only DropShip in hazardous terrain. I didn't blame them but in this instance it didn't work out. First Sight We first caught sight of them travelling in a staggered line just at the approach to the Molito Reservoir. I'd never seem such a raggedy group of patched up 'Mechs in my life! Half of them limped or hobbled on uneven legs that had been taken from different 'Mech classes. One or two had to have parts from six or seven different 'Mechs attached to them. I could only recognise the 'Mech types of about half. They all carried or dragged the heavy stamped boxes that could be recognized everywhere in the Inner Sphere as crated 'Mech spare parts and equipment. I don't think that we had been spotted when the last four 'Mechs in their line turned toward the reservoir and entered its muddy waters. Before the four Bandits were completely submerged they nonchalantly dropped what they were carrying in the shallows. Only the three heavier 'Mechs in the lead kept on running toward their LZ, all encumbered with enough spares to fix up a company of damaged 'Mechs. Pretty smart; it would have been a classic ambush tactic if we hadn't come up to see its implementation when we did. I'm sure we would have run right past the reservoir only to be hit from both the front and the rear shortly. It kind of lets you know what a split second can do for your situation on the battlefield. "Pursuit Lance, break right," came the order from Captain Miller's Wolverine. "Enter the Molito and engage the bandits. Flush 'em out." Commander Gunther acknowledged from his Trebuchet and ordered the rest of us to follow him into the water as the Command Lance ran past toward the other three bandit 'Mechs withdrawing toward their DropShip with an armful. I never did like water combat. Sure, you get a big boost in your heat capacity and staying power. But this is balances out by the poor visibility slippery footing, difficulty in movement as well as the greater amount of ammo feed jams and clogged intakes. Besides - lake and river bottoms give me the creeps. Molito Reservoir was no different. It was scummy, it was murky, and it sure wasn't the cleanest water I've ever seen. I couldn't believe that anyone drank this stuff after a purification process or not. After we got through with it today, I was sure it would be in even worse shape. I couldn't have been more right. "Higgins and Kelly, flank left," came the command from Gunther's Trebuchet. "Franklyn with me on the right. Line abreast. Let's find these buggers and drive 'em to drink!" We all acknowledged and hit the water. My Javelin was knee deep on the fairly steep bank when I heard a shout and saw Higgins' Cicada lose its footing and slide underwater on its back. "Check on Higgins, Kelly. We don't need any damage entering the bloody water!" Gunther's Trebuchet and Franklyn's Wasp kept moving deeper into the reservoir as I clumsily sidestepped across the bank to where Higgins had taken a dive. By then the water was roiling and breaking as he tried to regain his feet on the bottom. Communication would be difficult completely submerged but there was nothing else to do. Carefully, I maneuvered my Javelin under the waves, putting the 'Mechs's hands out as if I were walking through a darkened room. Visibility couldn't have been more than sixty or seventy meters. What I finally saw was a rolling cloud of mud ahead of me marking Higgins' position. I closed in and tried the radio at low power. "Higgins, what's your situation?" There was no answer. I repeated myself as the mud cloud began to envelop me, leaving the cockpit in total darkness. I could hear the amplified sounds of metal banging against metal from the outside of the Javelin, but couldn't make anything out of it. There was nothing to do but move ahead, groping as I did so. The crump crump of underwater missile detonations took me completely by surprise. They were too far away for me to guess direction, but I also could pick up the bubbling hiss of submerged lasers being fired. And here I was in a cloud of mud totally blind. This was getting scary. I was almost happy when I ran into something. My 'Mech's hands glanced off the back of another 'Mech that was almost bent fully over, its feet trying for a purchase on the treacherous bottom silt. And it wasn't a Cicada. Its huge left fist had been banging down on Higgins' hapless 'Mech as the Bandit had nearly sat its full weight on the Cicada trying to push it into the mud. I thought it was a Centurion, but I couldn't tell with all the replacement equipment it carried and the improvised jump jets on its back. Before the enemy 'Mech could turn around I had stepped back and let loose with my two short range missile launchers. The explosions nearly lifted me off of the bottom, but when the bubbles cleared, I saw that it had been enough at least to spook the Bandit, if not to damage him severely. The Centurion was nowhere to be seen, but I could see Higgins' Cicada on its side in the mud. Bubbles were still shooting out of its hull where the pounding that the Centurion had given it had ruptured the armor. Its Hartford J15B Communications antennae were bent down to the top plate of the hull. I couldn't have gotten in touch with Higgins if I'd tried. Some of the internal equipment was damaged and blue sparks were arcing out of the hull rents in useless power discharges. I didn't know if Higgins was dead or alive but his 'Mech was certainly disabled. It would take at least another 'Mech to attempt to lift it out of the water. I had to find Commander Gunther or Franklyn to help me with that. And there were still the Bandits to think about. The firing towards where I assumed Gunther and Franklyn were to be found had subsided so that I was left with little idea of which direction to head for. I tried to recall the outline of the reservoir in my mind. It couldn't have been more than a square kilometer of water surface so all I had to do was to walk around long enough and I should run into somebody. The question was who that somebody would be. The far side of the reservoir was an old artificial dike which you could tell would be impossible to climb. Molito Reservoir was one of the older water rentention systems on the planet. I guess it was designed a couple of centuries ago when the world government thought that the population would be growing in this direction toward the coast. I guess that that never happened so the reservoir had been allowed to go to pot. It didn't take real long to hear missile detonations again and I began to wade through the murky waters toward the sounds. As my Javelin traversed the reservoir toward the dike I saw and heard laser bolts hissing in their brightness even before I could see their targets. Gunther's Trebuchet had been pinned near the far end of the dike by cross fire from a Bandit Stinger and PIV a Panther. He was relying as best he could with his long range missiles and medium lasers but at this close range the missiles had little effect. I could tell that Gunther's Trebuchet was receiving more damage than he was giving out. Franklyn's Wasp was nowhere to be seen. I was just pressing the firing studs on my twin SRM sixpacks when a smashing blow took my Javelin from behind. It staggered but I was able to regain control before I fell and became trapped in the muck. It was the Centurion. Medium laser bolts and a discharge of long range missiles shot out of its chest. The lasers scored gouges into my torso armor but most of the long range missiles arced over and hit the dike before exploding. I turned my Javelin to get a clear shot with my short ranges missiles but before I could, the Centurion had closed in and smashed my left shoulder housing with the remains of the autocannon that dangled from his left arm. I hoped that that was the damage my attack had done when he was pummeling Higgins' Cicada. But I was too busy now too think of Higgins. Hand to hand 'Mech combat underwater usually resembles a slow motion comedy routine. The advantage is always with bank. The Whitworth kept firing, causing even more damage the heavier opponent, even more so than on land since the momentum built up underwater seems so much more powerful. I was outclassed by twenty tons more mass and it was beginning to tell as I began to be pushed and shoved away from the dike, firing whenever I could manage with my SRMs, but hitting only rarely. There was no use trying to call for help since my radio aerials had been the first things ripped off in the melee. It was certain that whoever slipped first was going to receive a head bashing that they would never recover from, and it looked like I just might be the candidate in this dance of death. Franklyn's Wasp just came out of nowhere. Rather than popping off at the Centurion with his laser, he got smart and grabbed one of the bigger 'Mechs' legs. With my Javelin pushing and Franklyn's Wasp pulling, the Centurion finally lost balance and floated down to the mud, with legs and arms flailing and lasers firing every which way. I didn't even give the pilot time to orient himself before I started to kick and pound at the Centurion's head section. Soon Franklyn was joining in and it was with a fair amount of mixed emotions that I felt a solid hit and was greeted by a mass of bubbles heading toward the surface. It didn't take a Tech to see that the side of the Centurion's cockpit had buckled where I had kicked. If the blow hadn't killed the pilot outright, he certainly had drowned by now. Gunther's Trebuchet was still trading shots with the Bandit Stinger and Panther, and losing. I motioned Franklyn to follow me only to find the fourth Bandit, something that once appeared to have been a Whitworth, blocking our path. I fired off another salvo of short range missiles and felt the slight push into my Javelin's hull that signalled a laser hit. Red lights began flashing on my damage board and the heat tell tales were rising even in all this water. Things were beginning to look bad but I figured they could be worse. They got worse very fast. I triggered another salvo of missiles at the Whitworth only to hear a dull crump. The water pressure building up in my launch tube had caused a misfire. That SRM launcher was curled up now, useless. Franklyn's laser kept popping away but the Whitworth began to move towards me, ignoring him. The Whitworth was out for a fist fight. We could either oblige or leave the Commander at their mercy. There was really no decision. I approached the Whitworth cautiously but suddenly stopped. Something definitely was not right. My Javelin was leaning into the current at about ten degrees. I could see debris and tiny fish whirling past my cockpit towards the dike. I though maybe a storm had come up quickly on the surface, but that didn't sound right. The current seemed to be getting stronger. The current? There wasn't supposed to be a current! Even in my confusion I knew I had to get away. Motioning with my hands to Franklyn to fall back, I began to fight the current with all the power my 'Mech had left, trying to get closer to the far bank. The roar, when it arrived, drowned out all other sound. Soon my 'Mech was down on its knees and scrabbling for something to hold on to. I latched onto what appeared to be the wreck of a road vehicle so old I didn't recognize the type. It had been in the reservoir so long it seemed to be fused to the bottom with suction and undergrowth. It probably saved my life. I could see the Whitworth behind me. It had lost its footing and was rolling towards the break in the dike. Its MechWarrior must have panicked or the cockpit controls malfunctioned because the Whitworth's head blossomed out from the detonation of explosive bolts and the pilot's couch shot sideways out into the water. It didn't travel far before it too was caught in the surge of water towards the broken dike. It went flipping along the bottom. I could only hope that the seat ejection had broken the pilot's neck before he realized he was going to drown. I held on for what had to be fifteen minutes before the current seemed to lessen. Shortly after that the water cleared my Javelin's head and I was in daylight once again. It took me three tries to get up from the bottom. There was no more reservoir, just a mud hole. The continuous shock waves from all the underwater firing must have shaken up the old dike enough for it to collapse, emptying the water it had contained in a catastrophic fashion. Franklyn's Wasp was just getting up from his holding position also; up by the bank I could see that Higgins' Cicada had not been dislodged from where the Centurion had hammered it. As I watched, Higgins himself popped the hatch and gratefully slid down the side of his 'Mech into knee deep mud. He looked a little stunned, but alive. I walked my 'Mech over to where the water still trickled out of the remnants of the dike. There stretched before me were some very wet lowlands. It's a good thing that this area had been sparsely settled or more damage would have occurred. The Bandit Centurion had been pinned between two boulders some thousand meters from the dike. The Panther, Stinger, and pilotless Whitworth were spread out along the floodplain below, nearly covered in mud and silt. There was movement only from the Stinger as its pilot cracked the hatch and waved a dirty white t-shirt out of the opening. He had had enough. I couldn't blame him. So had I. Commander Gunther's Trebuchet was right below me. It had fallen the fifteen meters or so to where the dike had once stood. It was face down in the muck. There was no movement. We finally got the Lieutenant out of his 'Mech about three hours later. He was unconscious and had a skull fracture. They say he'll be back with the Lance in about a month if there isn't any brain damage. The Bandit pilot in the Panther wasn't so lucky. The cockpit seams on his 'Mech popped while he was being dragged toward the dike and it filled up with water before the Panther broke the surface. And what about the other three Bandit 'Mechs trying to get away? They did, but not before they were forced to drop all the stuff they had come so far to collect. They didn't need so much anyway, now that they had four less 'Mechs to worry about. They made me Acting Lance Commander until the Lieutenant gets back, and they gave us all a ten-day furlough in Dalensport, and you know what? No one would believe the story! I tell you, its all in the official record for anybody with clearance to see it. But who cares? The Lieutenant, Higgins, Franklyn and I know it happened. You believe what you want. Back to BattleTechnology 12 Table of Contents Back to BattleTechnology List of Issues Back to MagWeb Magazine List © Copyright 1990 by Pacific Rim Publishing. This article appears in MagWeb.com (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other military history articles and gaming articles are available at http://www.magweb.com