He fished in
a webbing pouch at the side of the cockpit chair, and brought out a filmy, blue length of soft cloth. Mara had given it to him the period before they'd left. "I've read how the Knights of Old Earth carried their lady's favors into battle," she'd said.
Mara had handed him a piece of the gown she had worn at the reception. "You could carry this."
Grayson looked at the scrap of material for several seconds, then made his decision. Practicality over romance, he thought. Mara would understand. He used the cloth to wipe away the layer of perspiration that had beaded over his forehead and upper lip.
Watching the readouts on the target 'Mechs, he saw that the range had decreased. A quick consultation with the Locust's on-board computer showed that if the enemy 'Mechs held their course and speed, they would be at their closest point and moving away from Grayson's position just... about... NOW!
Grayson's hand pressed the Locust's control stick forward, and the 'Mech leaned forward, one armored bird's foot clawing at the soft sand slope before it. The machine lurched and seemed to stumble slightly, then Grayson heard the whine of protesting servos as the 'Mech's computer drew on his sense of balance and struggled to remain upright.
One giant foot found purchase, and the other foot lifted. The 'Mech's head lurched above the rim of the canyon. Now he saw the scene directly throught the Locust's sensors on the 180-screen. He struggled with the stick, willing the machine up and forward. One flat, four-clawed foot cleared the edge, the flanges spilling sand, and then the Locust was up and onto the hard, flat desert surface. The Locust's bird-like form leaned forward and its spindly legs swung up, forward, and down with shifting, mechanical movements.
In theory, Grayson knew there was no way one 'Mech could sneak up on another across open terrain. BattleMech hulls mount sensors that cover the entire spectrum, infra-red to ultra-violet, as well as sound, laser ranging, and radar. The 'Mech's computer creates a composite 360-degree scan of the entire battlefield that is instantly available to the pilot. In practice, things were not so simple. MechWarriors are human, and, caught up in the excitement of battle or the thrill of a chase, a pilot might override or ignore a computer's signals.
Grayson was counting on the humanness of the two 'Mech pilots he was stalking now. Lori had said Enzelman was less experienced than she at 'Mech operations. Though Sergeant Mendoza was experienced, his first instinct would be to focus on the decoy convoy of speeding vehicles two kilometers in front of the targets.
Grayson could see the HVWCs off to the side, turning now under a pillar of dust that mushroomed into the sky. There was a flash of light ahead. The enemy Wasp had fired its laser at long range with no visible effect. He touched a control. The screen shifted to battle mode, the landscape subdued, the enemy Mechs outlined in light and bracketed by readouts giving range and sensor-detected information. Drifting red crosshairs showed the aiming point for the laser.
The decline of technology during the Succession Wars had keenly affected the science of weapons manufacture and design. No longer could the complex control systems for fire-and-forget missiles, for long-range particle beams or lasers be packed into units small enough and cheap enough to be casually expended in combat. BattleMech engagements tended to be brutal, short-range affairs, with individual Mechs closing to a few tens of meters to deliver killing shots.
Theoretically, the laser under the Locust's chin could hit anything in line-of-sight clear to the horizon. That range was sharply reduced, however, by the quality of the weapons controls systems that pointed the heavy barrel. Grayson could not count on hitting anything with that laser at ranges greater than about 300 meters. He'd begun his charge when the enemy was one kilometer away. At top speed, he would close to firing range in less than 30 seconds.
The Wasp was between Grayson and the Stinger, blocking the Stinger's electronic scanners. That was a small piece of luck, for Lori had told him that the Stinger pilot seemed to have had some combat experience. More, certainly, than her comrade in the Wasp. Range 800 meters.
For that reason, he was locking the crosshairs of his laser sight on the rear bit of the left hip joint on the Stinger. The experienced MechWarrior would be the more dangerous of the two.
Range 600 meters.
Well, listen to the old hand talking, Grayson thought wryly. This is YOUR first time in 'Mech combat, he told himself. Even that Wasp pilot has seen more action in a 'Mech hotseat than you. Training is great, but remember what Griff was always telling you about there being no substitute for experience. Just then, a flashing blue light on his console told him he was being probed by radar.
Range 400 meters.
The Stinger was slowing, dropping behind the charging Wasp. It pivoted on stiff legs, the long, black muzzle of its laser coming to the point.