[ WP ] What do you do when you ca n't run any more ?

# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) 
 
 *Alright I'll admit it, that last charge was a mistake. * 
 
 The left knee actuator of Major Yuri Danilov's *Catapult* groaned with each labored step of the 65 ton war machine, the strands of myomer half-melted and fused with the joints within the damaged limb. His BattleMech limped along, dragging a large metal toe through the soil as he moved East, his eyes paying close attention to the radar screen in front of him. The rest of his'Mech was in similar shape, its torso covered with the telltale molten lines of lasers and the pockmark wounds of autocannon fire. The mottled camouflage scheme was blackened and worn away at parts, revealing the bare armor beneath. 
 
 Sergeant Gibbons *Carronade* was likewise damaged, the left arm missing except for a few dangling myomer cables and sparking cables. The *Atlas III* responsible would n't trouble them any longer, what with its pilot splattered across the surfaces of his broken cockpit. Gibbons did n't celebrate his victory, the quiet spoken Leaguer merely moving to his target with hardly a word. 
 
 The rest of the surviving Light Dragoons accompanied them in a steady but organized retreat, the remaining eight BattleMechs forming a wall of steel for the tanks and infantry to pull back behind. Occasionally a Davion'Mech would near the wounded but still deadly battalion, probing their perimeter for any sign of weakness before being driven off by laser and PPC fire; they did n't have enough ammo to waste LRMs and autocannons on scouts. 
 
 A light flashed on Yuri console's comm system indicating a private message. He switched over to the channel and spoke into his mike, using Russian for added security. 
 
 < `` What is it, Maggie? `` > 
 
 < `` A question, father. What happens next? `` > 
 
 His daughter had turned twenty two months ago and was already an accomplished *Locust* pilot. Major Danilov saw no reason to hide the truth. 
 
 < `` We make for Hoffman Bridge and from there to our dropship. The damn Taurians fed us bad intel. Fucking Seventh Syrtis Fusiliers got us good. >'' 
 
 < `` And if we ca n't escape what then, father? >'' 
 
 Major Danilov said nothing for several long seconds before replying. 
 
 < `` Then we fight as if there's no land across the Volga...'' >
