Battletech #32 - Malicious Intent by Michael A. Stackpole

Author:Michael A. Stackpole [Stackpole, Michael A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, General, High Tech, Thrillers, Robots, Science warfare
ISBN: 9780451453877
Publisher: Roc
Published: 1996-02-29T06:00:00+00:00

21

DropShip True Word

Boonville, Kentessee Administrative District North America, Terra

28 February 3058

Precentor Lisa Koenigs-Cober tightened down the restraining strap holding her to the Quickdraw's command couch, then keyed her radio. "Is there a chance, Mr. Archer, that you can fly around those downdrafts instead of through them?" She kept her question light, but didn't let it become entirely a joke. The Leopard Class DropShip had bounced around rather severely.

"Had I my choice, Precentor, I wouldn't be in the air right now. I could fly over this storm, but we're using the Lancers' beacon to bring us in on target."

"Acknowledged." Lisa sighed, not for the first time on the trip. Evelena Haskell had requested her presence as observer in a final set of exercises that would prove the Twenty-first Centauri Lancers ready to assume their duty station and thus trigger the contract clauses that started their pay at a higher rate. Lisa had tried to get out of it, even going so far as to plead the need to requalify on a live-fire range in her Quickdraw before the end of the month. Haskell pointed out that the Lancers had just such a range set up and would put it at her disposal, eliminating her last excuse.

Lisa finally agreed to join the Lancers outside Bowling Green, having realized that part of her reluctance came from the way her pride had been stung in the simulator exercises with the Lancers. She decided, without telling Haskell, that she and her lancemates would get additional qualifying out of the way by performing a combat drop into the live-fire range. She hoped that showing her skill at that would win back some of the face she'd lost when the mercenaries trounced her troops.

The arrival of one of the worst winter storms in recorded history almost scrubbed her plan. Warm, wet Caribbean and Atlantic air had collided with an arctic air mass over the North American midwest, and pushed on toward ComStar's headquarters at Hilton Head. It had already dumped several meters of snow on either side of the Mississippi River, promising floods in the spring, and then barreled on toward the eastern seaboard.

"I understand your reluctance to fly in this weather, Mr. Archer. Just try not to set it down too soon."

"Sure." The pilot's sarcasm poured into Lisa's neuro-helmet with digital clarity. "It would be nice if I could just see where to put it down."

The secondary monitor in her 'Mech's cockpit glowed white as Archer fed his external camera view to it. "It looks rather white out there."

"Yeah, and three meters deep, too."

"They've got a runway clear for you?"

"I guess so. They've got the beacons set up. We'll go on automatic approach in ten minutes or so. We're about a hundred and a half kilometers out. Hang on."

"Wilco."

Archer laughed. "I've got four Lancer aerofighters coming in. Either they're nuts, or they need adverse weather training."

Lisa smiled. "Follow them home, Mr. Archer."

"Roger, Precentor."

She punched a couple of buttons on her command console and shifted the view from the nose camera to the aerodynamic DropShip's radar.

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