It hurt to breathe, the muscles over his chest and abdomen were bruised where the restraining harness had dug in painfully. Alarms continued to sound their warnings. Sinclair blinked away the ghostly images the laserfire had burned over his eyes, vision clearing as the haze swept back. Only the lightly polarized tint to the canopy and his neurohelmet’s faceplate saved him from more permanent damage, though in combat even a second’s blindness could prove lethal.

The wireframe damage schematic he had pulled to an auxiliary screen showed heavy armor loss all over the Bushwacker. Armor protecting the BattleMech’s left arm was now a memory, the Owens’ emerald pulses finally eating through the last of its protection to cut away at the myomer muscles and shoulder actuator. The arm itself hung useless down the BattleMech’s side. Further damage concentrated primarily along left leg, right torso and the head, promising breaches in those areas soon enough.

If he gave the Smoke Jaguar warrior the chance.

Slapping quickly at the irritating alarms, Sinclair silenced the distractions, then worked throttle and stick to shift the Bushwacker, shuffling the ‘Mech around in a tight circle. The Owens gave chase, but sluggishly. Shimmering steam and sooty black smoke leaked out of several rents in the armor covering the small OmniMech’s upper body. The shielding damage Connor scored earlier had overheated the Owens, robbing it of speed and likely making targeting more difficult. Apparently the Clan pilot had not been able to convert over to the Smoke Jaguar’s better heat sink technology, leaving the Owens vulnerable after rapid-fire laser barrages. It was an advantage. It would be all he needed.

Sinclair smiled grimly, second-guessed the Jaguar warrior and throttled forward into a tight circle outside of the Owens’ now-limited turn radius. Too eager, the Clan pilot had committed himself to chasing the Bushwacker’s rear arc and now overextended himself. Sinclair caught the Owens by the back instead. The centerline large laser lanced a ruby beam through the Omni’s weaker armor, cutting away more engine shielding. If the shudder which trembled the Owens meant anything, he had also nicked the gyro housing as well. His machine guns hammered in afterward, this time smashing all the way through and releasing the inferno harnessed at the heart of every BattleMech.

A golden blaze burst from the Owens’ chest cavity, coring the OmniMech even as fiery tendrils worked through the machine to burst out of shoulder and hip joints. The ‘Mech flew apart as easily as a rag doll shredded at the seams. Armor shrapnel peppered the Bushwacker, which rocked backward in the face of the explosion. A few large pieces of slag that were once actuators and titanium support structure slammed hard into the BattleMech, as if an attempt by the Owens to take the larger machine with it.

Connor rode it out, jostled once more against his five-point harness but otherwise coming through unharmed. The Bushwacker presided over the ruined frame of the Owens and a battlefield of scorched earth littered with smoking debris. No enemy threats showed on the HUD.

The field was clear.

* * *

The trio of MFB vehicles had gathered into a triangular formation down inside a shallow wash. A two-minute walk from where Sinclair had put down the Owens, Thomas Sorenson had chosen a good site. Enough flat area to break out the repair facilities, the lieutenant noted with relief, checking his armor loss and damage to the Bushwacker’s left arm. There was also the autocannon to fix, as he had no intention of losing one of his best weapons in the middle of battle again. The 55 ton BattleMech had certainly looked better. Still, three Clan ‘Mechs down and one comms facility scrapped. Not a bad day, though he was ready to quit while ahead.

That wasn’t going to happen.

“Good to see you, Lieutenant.” Sorenson waved from the ground near one of the MFBs. He had a hand-held radio unit. “Ready to take on the world? I hope so.”

Sinclair walked the Bushwacker into the area framed by the three vehicles, but delayed his shutdown procedure. “What do you mean?”

Sorenson’s report lacked anything in the way of personal feelings -- the way a good intelligence report should be given. “I mean we’re still 'go’ to hit the factory. You and Dominic Paine, and these three MFBs.”

“Dominic made it?” Sinclair asked.

“We heard from him just a few minutes ago. He’s moving to regroup. Also survivors of Damocles Commando Two made contact with the Eclipse. Two MechWarriors^® and an MFB support vehicle, trying to complete their mission down at the southern hydroelectric facility.”

If not the best news, it was at least encouraging. Team Two was out the door after his commando. If two of them made it down, then both Tessa and Keith would be out there as well, trying to make rendezvous. But, “No extraction then?”