“We leading the way in sir?” asked Major Alice Gett.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. We will be landing six hours prior to the rest of the invasion force.”
His officers gave each other nervous glances at the news. For a moment, there was no sound other than the noises of the troopers in the camp and the crackle of the flames as a log settled, sending sparks upward into the darkness.
“Sir,” Katya asked hesitantly. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am,” he said solidly. “And if we do our jobs right, we can help bring this war to an end.” Turning he scanned the eyes of his officers and made sure that he had eye contact with each and every one of them. “We will have a secured briefing tomorrow to go over the operational plans. Get some sleep and I will see all of you at 0830 hours.” Before they could rebut him, Archer pivoted and walked away.
They’re good people. I need to ask them to take part in one more fight. That’s all, just one more fight…
Chapter Two
Camp Avenger, The Daring Flood Plains
New Avalon, Crucis March
Federated Suns
31 December 3066
The dull, flat-green plexi-dome had guards posted all around it. A fine layer of dust covered it and was streaked where people had brushed up against the dome, taking the dust with them. As the ad hoc command center for Archer’s Avengers, the roof of the small collapsible structure was covered with a prickled layer of antenna, stabbing skyward.
Inside the dome, Archer stood over the holotable. Millennia before, a table covered with sand had served the same purpose—to allow a commander to model combat terrain for tactical planning purposes. The holotable was a familiar tool, but Archer found himself waxing nostalgic, wondering what it was like to use a good old-fashioned sand table.
While the hot sun beat down on the plains outside, the portable AC unit strained to keep the interior of the command center cool. His officers stood around the table, staring at the holographic image of the target—Avalon Island. Most had their arms crossed over their chests. They said nothing. Despite orders, Captain Kraff had a cigar in his mouth, a thin wisp of smoke rising from it. It didn’t reek like a cheap cigar and Kraff was quick to point out to anyone that complained that he had stolen only the very best—the spoils of war.
There were a few guests in the room as well. They hadn’t been introduced to the Avengers command yet. They stood out in that their olive drab jumpsuits, while worn, were not nearly as faded or patched as those worn by the Avengers. There were no signs of old patches, pulled off as their affiliations and units had changed. Some of his people had handmade their lance or company patches and wore them proudly. The elbows of more than one Avenger uniform was threadbare.
Archer’s people had been cobbled together from dozens of other units and retired veterans, all answering the call to support Prince Victor against his sister Katherine. While some had outdated uniforms, a few still wearing their spurs of the Federated Suns, all had one thing in common—a desire to see the war brought to an end, swiftly if at all possible. Archer was proud of the way they looked. It wasn’t the uniforms that were important, but the men and women in them.
General Christifori leaned forward over the holotable, putting his palms on the edge of the three-dimensional map and leaning on his arms, over the terrain. He tipped his head back and let his gaze sweep the tight confines of the room. “First and foremost, let me say how proud I am of all of you. We’ve fought our way across the Inner Sphere to get here—at the right place, at the right time.
“The Avengers have been given a unique and special honor. We are going to lead the assault on Avalon Island. Our forces are to be the first ones ashore in the final assault against Katherine’s forces.” He didn’t expect a cheer. These were seasoned military personnel. They had a pretty damn good idea of what they would be facing if they led the assault. He did hear a few mumbles.
“For intelligence purposes, we’re officially being designed as reserve elements of the Outland Legion,” he said, making eye contact with each of his officers. Reaching into his right flank pocket he pulled out a wad of Outland Legion patches. “Sew these on, pass them out to the troops. Orders will go out to repaint our ’Mechs for the time being with Outland Legion colors.”
“Sir?” Kraff said, taking up the patch as if it was manure in his fingertips. “Why all the cloak and dagger stuff? Outland Legion? That’s crap in a can if I’ve ever heard it. They’re good and all, but we’re the Avengers.” His words were met with more than one nod of agreement.
Archer smiled. Pride in the unit was one of his cornerstones for holding his troopers together. “Just relax. It’s temporary. When the time comes, we’ll show Katherine our true colors. I can’t speak for the rest of you, but I can’t wait to get her panties in a bunch when she finds out that we’re here.” As if to add emphasis, he winked at his officers who, in turn, took up the patches with a new sense of purpose and chuckled at his response.
“The shortest distance between Avalon Island and our current base of operations is Portsmouth. That will be our target. We will hit the beach to the west of the harbor and city and drive inland, sweeping back into the city and catching it from the rear.” As he spoke, Archer triggered the animation on the holotable showing where the landings would take place. A long red arrow swept in behind the port city and punched into it from the rear flank.
“While we secure the port facilities, the Sherwood Foresters will punch in towards
