Near her she could see that Lyonor was having similar success against a Warhawk. Her short-range missile salvo had made a good hit and the Warhawk was staggering, ready to go down, an event that occurred after Lyonor’s well-placed PPC bursts in the Warhawk’s gyro area.
On her forward screen, as Joanna quickly traced out the action of the battle, she saw that the Jade Falcons were holding their own against the Ghost Bears. As far as she could tell, each side had about the same number of fallen or clearly disabled ’Mechs. No one for her to challenge. Looking out the cockpit for a visual check of the battle, she found there was too much smoke and fire to the left of her Hellbringer to discern many details. To her right, where Lyonor was now stalking her next target, the view was clearer and Joanna could see all the way to the edge of the plain, where a tall leafy forest seemed to rise up toward a sky which apparently was darkening fast. A storm was coming.
She hated storms. In fact, she hated any weather condition that distorted the view of a battle. There had been many times when, caught in a sudden heavy downpour or a blizzard of swirling snow, she had raged as the enemy seemed to shape-shift, become larger or smaller, losing all defining outline, fading in and out of sight. Although it might be just a Clan legend, she had heard that Ghost Bears were particularly dangerous in inclement conditions.
She spotted a Stormcrow trying to blindside Lyonor, heading toward her with its typical quickness. Lyonor herself was bearing her Summoner down on a Mad Dog that had already suffered considerable damage but had managed to down its own opponent. She destroyed the Mad Dog’s right arm pulse laser, which sputtered flame. Nevertheless, it still came toward the Summoner steadily, a bit slowly. The slowness also seemed to suggest that this particular Ghost Bear pilot was in trouble but, with characteristic Clan persistence, would rather die fighting than take a brief and safe retreat.
This Stormcrow’s mine then, Joanna thought, and started racing her Hellbringer toward the ambushing ’Mech. She pushed the Hellbringer as hard as she could, trying to get every ounce of energy out of it. Instead, the Hellbringer slowed down and became difficult to handle. Something in one the Hellbringer’s leg actuators must have been hit or chosen this stravag time to malfunction. She felt like her ’Mech was heading toward the Stormcrow at half speed, as if sludging through a field of mud. Working her controls frantically, she tried to increase the speed, but the Hellbringer did not respond. Twisting in her seat, she tried to urge the ’Mech forward with her body. If anything, it seemed to slow down more.
Ahead of her, Lyonor was in more trouble than she realized. Joanna tried to raise her on the commline, but all signals were jamming and all she heard was noise. She shouted a warning to Lyonor, hoping that maybe her abrasive voice would get through all the static.
Whether Lyonor heard or not, she suddenly shifted position and shot at the Stormcrow. The shot went wide but it diverted the Stormcrow just enough. It raced past Lyonor’s Summoner.
It had also accomplished its goal in tempting Lyonor—tricking her—into firing on two different targets! By the rituals of battle, she had agreed to a two-against-one battle!
If the Ghost Bears could play such games—the same tricks that had cost her a Bloodname twice!—Joanna felt no shame in unleashing her full fury against them. A grand melee. So be it. She worked furiously at her controls, trying to get more power and speed out of the Hellbringer. Ahead of her the storm cloud seemed to be racing toward them with the speed of a Stormcrow.
Edging her Hellbringer toward the Stormcrow’s path, she watched it begin to make a turn, back toward Lyonor’s Summoner. Its medium lasers were already engaged, sending bolts toward the Summoner. They went astray, but Joanna knew that once the Stormcrow got into close range, it could be deadly. The red bolts seemed brighter against the dark oncoming storm. Joanna could see the lines of rain, the storm was that close.
Lyonor’s concentration seemed to be on the Mad Dog, which was now reeling, ready to fall. In her mind, Joanna urged the fall with the same intensity she urged her Hellbringer onwards. As it fell, the Mad Dog’s pilot managed a strong green burst from its large pulse laser. Hitting Lyonor’s Summoner, it sent pieces of its ferro-fibrous armor flying. The Summoner rocked slightly from side to side at the laser’s impact, but maintained its position as the Mad Dog fell in front of it, its head just missing the Summoner’s feet. Lyonor should be proud of this one. Her combat skill there shows she should earn a Bloodname.
But the Stormcrow still headed steadily toward the Summoner. And the storm reached the area, releasing a downpour whose impact felt just as powerful as a hit from a PPC. And her Hellbringer continued to trudge along, going into the heavy wind. Now it was not too far away from the Stormcrow. And Joanna hoped the enemy had not detected her approach.
A flash of lightning illuminated the scene in eerie colors. To Joanna, it seemed like a chalk drawing, done by a child. The shadows on the Stormcrow seemed sketched on with no relation to any object throwing them. Further in the distance, Lyonor’s ’Mech was more like a smudge against the landscape, its edges uneven, as if the child wielding the chalk had not stayed within the lines.
In a moment all three ’Mechs were in close proximity to
