Author's Notations:
Rated T+ for occasional violence and strong coarse language
Reviews with honest compliments/criticism welcomed, no trolling or one-word reviews
Acknowledgments to the translators of the Battle Story on the following sites: Zoids Wiki, Zoidspoison, creativeinsanity,and Zoids US
The following takes place in ZAC 2033, during the events of the First Central Continent War (ZAC 2029-2039) of OJR Battle Story continuity
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Excerpt from "An Oral History of the Sniper"
First Edition, Delpoi Archives
Nimbus, Albane W.
The introduction of the Zoic Android to the modern-day battlefield set the mark for future warfare and made many realize the essential role that these biomechanical behemoths had in warfare. Cheap to produce due to their organic origins, as well as easy to learn how to pilot, the Zoid slowly crept its way into the arsenals of both the Helic Republic and the Zenebas Empire during the First Central Continent War. Eventually the inception of the Zoid culminated in a boom during the Human Arrival, which sparked a new arms race as each side developed one powerful weapon after the other. Each one more deadly than the one before.
The human ship that crash-landed on Zi in ZAC 2029, 'Globally 3,' was one of seventeen Globally-class ships that had left the human homeworld of Earth. A destructive and nuclear 'world civil war' had left the planet near uninhabitable and the Globally ships were part of a cooperative mission by all the major powers of Earth to set aside their differences and locate planets capable of supporting life. Though it was through accidental mutiny onboard between the ship's military staff and some merchants that led to the crash-landing of the ship on Zi, ironically enough it was perfect for the endangered human race. Humans and Zoidians share at least 98.79% (to the tenth percentile, Edwards, 189) of their DNA, and Earth and Zi have similar geographical and to a certain extent; climatic features. Over one half of the Globally 3's passengers were people with backgrounds in various fields of technological disciplines, and many were also associated with the military as well; due to the world civil war's conscription policy.
Attributed to Zi's small size and having the majority of its population located in a single Pangaea-style supercontinent, globalization had already been achieved in the planet prior to the arrival of humans. This made the introduction of human culture that much easier as multiple facets of the human lifestyle proved popular amongst the Zoidians. As the second year since the Human Arrival ended, more than half the planet already spoke the primary lingua Franca of humanity, English, having had replaced the traditional Ancient Zoidian. Humanity's traits were being integrated into Zi itself and the armies took advantage of this, using human technology to upgrade the development of Zoids. Prior to the Arrival, many military analysts did not consider Zoids as quintessential to the battlefield and that they should merely serve as mass-produced armor transport in the form of smaller Zoids like the early Garius or Glidoler units. It was with human-pioneered tactics and systems that Zoids evolved from cheap substitutes to fully-fledged combat machines and made them what they are today.
As the Zoid concept slowly became the core of every military, the humans furthered their influence by introducing more concepts to Zoid warfare including squad systems, air support, and proper rank hierarchies. But by far one of the most revolutionary concepts that humanity introduced was the concept of the sniper, the stealthy role of support played by a lone Zoid. Whilst all those human contributions listed above already existed loosely in the Zoidian armies, the sniper was a wholly new idea, a covert agent who could support combat operations by delivering long-range precision fire - creating casualties and slowing movement, playing an elaborate game of cat and mouse with the enemy.
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1810 hours, Sep 7th
Khamer-River town Yeil, Delpoi
"Mark."
Crack! The rifle mounted on the tip of the Guysack's tail recoiled as the bullet left the chamber, soaring into the air. The spent shell casing burst out of the weapon's chamber as it cocked back and fell onto the ground, the five-foot long lead bouncing off the sandy surface as it gracefully descended. Beside the tail rifle was a cockpit, mounted on the tail as well and inside, a Zoids pilot, one of the few elite markswomen of the 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion of the Republican Army.
"Damn, missed that little critter," Sergeant Ibrik Scylla muttered as she surveyed the battlefield ahead. The x4 setting on her ceiling-mounted field glasses magnified the war-torn situation of the Khamer-River town. Explosions came from every direction as street-to-street fighting erupted and aerial Zoids carpet-bombed the entire town. Behind the burnt-out rubble of what was, moments ago, a monastery laid a surprisingly resilient Zenebas Iguan. Ibrik's brow furrowed as she flipped the switch to cock the bolt and load another cartridge into the rifle's chamber.
"Lucky little bastard, it's like you're invincible." She whispered softly as she switched the field glasses setting back to scope mode and brought her eyes closer to the device, "But this time…hah, this time you're not getting away from the inevitable."
"When have I heard that before," a sarcastic voice muttered over the intercom as it crackled.
Scylla grinned. The source of the childish comment was her partner, and her current spotter, Sergeant Joanna Don. The intercom crackled as Ibrik held on the voice-over button, relaying a comeback to Joanna, who was down in the main cockpit of the Guysack, acting as the pilot of the Zoid.
"Every time I scored a kill," she retorted, "I hope you have your visual settings on plus five."
"I've got them on plus six just to see if you're lying again this time," Joanna replied with a snicker.
"That was a definite kill!"
"Here we go again."
"You just couldn't see it cause you were too busy dealing with that AZ rifle; I saw that Saicurtis blow up in mid-air. From my round!"
"Uh-huh, so it wasn't some Cannon Tortoise's anti-air guns?" Joanna answered with a chuckle, "Please, what are the chances of hitting a target in mid-air?"
"Five to none, don't be jealous if you don't have the talent." Ibrik said, quoting from an old Wind Tribe idiom.
"And which one of us has the higher number of kills again?"
"Shut up, if I kill this idiot over here, we'll be on par."
"If. And that's only if I count that Saicurtis."
"Shut up."
Ibrik heard a soft laugh over the intercom and then it was dead. Peace and silence at last. The Iguan was still there, squatted underneath all that debris, waiting for some unsuspecting Republican Zoids to pass by so that it could ambush them. The poor fool, blissfully ignorant of that its very spot was its own grave. At her current range, Ibrik did not even require the participation of her spotter for a firing solution to calculate the angle of her bullet. Ibrik smiled to herself as she enjoyed the sensation of challenge right before a hit, she was a trained Zoid sniper and was proud of it too.
The concept of a 'sniper' in the battlefield was relatively new to Zoid warfare. One of the many introductory concepts of the humans after the landed in ZAC 2029, snipers had only just been recently assimilated into the modern Zoid army. Prior to this there were not even rough predecessors to it, sure there were units that served as overwatch to eliminate unseen enemies or potential threats, but it was more of a role than a specialty. It was only after Zoid warfare fully evolved that the importance of a sniper's role came into the spotlight. The Helic Republic wasthe first to attempt this, and the Empire followed soon after. Ibrik and Joanna were one of the many two-member 'sister-squads' of the 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion, an all-female sniper battalion that operated as individual squads going where they were needed rather than as a single unit.
It was the power of intimidation and fear of the unknown that made snipers so successful. Psychological warfare was a new innovation as well, and the inability to pin down a sniper could cause significant dents in a soldier's morale. Enemy soldiers hated them, calling them 'cheaters' or 'dishonorable,' unwilling to accept the changing status quo of war on Zi. Zoid warfare itself wasn't that old, having started roughly twenty-years ago, but already infantry were beginning to accept its place in the armed forces. Snipers added a whole new layer to the battlefield, a league of trained sharpshooters whose job was to keep its friendlies close and its enemies closer.
This was precisely what Sergeant Ibrik was attempting as she set her sights on the Iguan. Her first shot had fallen off the left by a few degrees; she had missed the minute of angle window. Because she had timed her shot to coincide with the explosion of a falling bomb, the Iguan had not noticed and still kept its entrenched position, most likely still waiting for an opportunity for an ambush. Ibrik was not going to let that happen. Adjusting the rifle by shifting her gyroscopic control, she felt the whole cockpit veer to the right as she lined up the crosshairs projected on her cockpit's screen with the Iguan, aiming directly for the clamshell canopy.
Ibrik let out a breath as she placed her finger on the trigger. At this range, it was almost impossible to miss. Solid rounds always acted like that. Unlike the standard-issue Guysacks, sniper Guysacks had their tail rifles modified, being rebuilt with a cockpit for a sniper to be placed on its mounting bracket to its right. Their rounds were also B-30 heavy armour-piercing centerfire rounds that could endure long distances and not compromise on accuracy, contrary to the standard beam fire. Beam fire was often unpredictable and could disperse due to Zi's natural electromagnetic field if fired too far. Solid bullets didn't have this weakness, but were more susceptible to gravity. It didn't matter much to Ibrik however; even beam fire would not disperse at this distance. 580 yards weren't much to a sniper as skilled as her. She wasn't even going to bother masking her shot with a bomb's detonation.
Checking once again that the on-screen crosshair on the monitor lined up, Ibrik took a deep breath. Her index finger lightly placed some pressure on the trigger as her entire palm gripped the control stick.
"Mark."
She squeezed the trigger and felt the whole cockpit shudder as the rifle fired, launching the hard-nosed projectile into the air. A pocket watch that hung from the fuel indicator dial of the cockpit, a present from Joanna for her 20th birthday, swung like a pendulum with the force. Zooming into the Iguan with her field glasses, it took only a split second before she could spot the round smashing into the clam-like cockpit, tearing apart the armor with devastating accuracy and toppling the whole Zoid over. Ibrik watched with something similar to pride as the dust kicked in the air as the Zoid lost its footing, crashing down onto the ground with a thunderous clatter. Fire and smoked fumed from the cockpit, and Ibrik pushed the glasses back onto its slot on the roof of the canopy, before reclining back on her chair.
"Bulls-eye."
"You didn't mask the shot?" Joanna asked in shock.
"Yeah….so? Not as though I was going to miss…"
"Moons Almighty," was Joanna's sighing answer before tapping could be heard over the line, "I'll catalog that on the computer's kill record."
"And the Saicurtis one?"
"Over my dead bo-"
"Tell you what," Ibrik interrupted, "If on the next mission I bring down two in a row," she offered temptingly, "you catalog that Saicurtis kill."
"Next mission's your turn to be the spotter."
"Ok then, next-next mission."
A mild pause.
"Deal."
Ibrik grinned as she placed her hands folded back on the base of her skull. Surviving another day on the battlefield always lifted up one's spirits. To Ibrik, war resembled a gambling game of some sort…where you took your chances even after you've won once. Where you keep doing it over and over again just for the thrill. Ibrik stole a look at the pocket watch which hung on with its chain and saw that there were only three more minutes remaining on their patrol rotation before they could return back to their base headquarters, codenamed 'Hassin', just twenty kilometers south from their current location within an improvised spider hole.
"I need to grab some grub and shower," Ibrik said aloud as she heard her gut grumble. Three minutes, she thought, Maybe I can get another unlucky Imperial bastard. She pulled down the field glasses in a rush again, scanning the burning husks of former buildings. Shards of glass and bomb craters filled the streets. The bodies of both soldiers and innocent civilians littered the streets. There was even the monocoque frame of a downed Storch stuck in between a building. Ibrik increased her resolution again.
It took only a moment before she caught the glint of a Zoid's armor as it approached them. Her lips curled upwards as she switched the setting to fire mode and turned the safety off. The miniature screen beside her gun control flashed 'CLEAR' as she gripped the fire control.
"Joanna, three o' clock low." she reported.
"Where? I can't see," Joanna replied, "You got a visual?"
"Affirmative. One of the Zenebas newer Zoids, that gorilla one. Three of them."
"They call 'em Hammer Rocks, or so I hear." Joanna replied as she tapped several keys, "We better bug out, ain't no way I'm going against one, let alone three of them. This isn't part of our job description."
"No wait, hold on," Ibrik spoke softly over the intercom, licking her lips, "We might have a chance here." She angled her weapon towards the Hammer Rock at the end of the spear formation that they were in, the one furthest back.
"Might? That's a pretty bloody loose statement," Joanna answered, "No hell no, we pull back." She began to shift the Guysack out of the foxhole it was nestled in, kicking up dirt in the air and dropping off the rubble that was on its back, serving as its camouflage in the urban environment.
"Joanna, stop damnit! You're reveal our position!" Ibrik exclaimed as the crosshair on her monitor shook, "I said stop! Just wait ok, I can handle this!" Joanna reluctantly brought the Guysack to a stop at Ibrik's outburst. The crosshair steadied.
"By the Moons!" Joanna yelled over the intercom, making Ibrik wince at her roaring voice, "Two minutes, that's all I'm giving you."
"I can handle this," Ibrik reaffirmed as she angled her shot higher to make up for the distance. 875 yards; according to the tachymeter. She cross-referenced it with the altimeter just to confirm before getting ready for the shot. Overhead, she could see several Storches dispersing from their formations in the sky. A signal that they were preparing to unload their bombs. That was all Ibrik needed to know when to fire.
"Mark."
Just as the Storches dropped their bombs on the riverside town, creating massive craters and death in their wake, Ibrik fired. The shot fired just as the fireworks began. Smoke blossomed ahead as the ground shook and Ibrik struggled as she tried to see if she had hit her target. Not even the Rock's armored helm could have saved it from her round if it came into contact with the Zoid. Theoretically at least, it should have pierced clean through the enemy Zoid. Ibrik held her breath.
"Damn smoke's everywhere, can't see nothing," Joanna muttered under her breath. Ibrik didn't comment, despite her mutual agreement. The sounds of battle were beginning to fade away into the distance now, as was the smoke. As loose soil floated down from the air and the ash began to disperse, Ibrik spotted her target.
"One down, two to go," she reported over the intercom, a smile plastered on her face.
"Hnn," Joanna grudgingly agreed.
Ibrik kept her eyes trained on her field glasses to see if the other two Zoids had spotted her. They hadn't. Dolts probably still think that a bomb shard or something caught their poor friend over there. The Imperial Zoids were standing around their fallen comrade in arms; they were probably having a conversation over the intercom. The thought that a sniper was meters away, watching their every move had not even occurred to them yet. It was something Ibrik used to her advantage, namely, the element of surprise.
"Mark," she said as another explosive dropped. The gun let out a crack as the round exited the barrel and brought down the second Hammer Rock on the far left. It collapsed onto the street, armor splintering from such a fall. The third Hammer Rock's pilot would probably realize by now that a hidden markswoman was the one responsible but Ibrik wouldn't give the bastard the chance to come to that epiphany. She slid her crosshairs towards the final Zoid to unload the last round - before it did the completely unexpected.
"The klutz is charging towards us!" Joanna shouted as the Hammer Rock did just that.
"Yeah, no shit," Ibrik replied sarcastically as she tried to steady her crosshair for a clean shot on the rumbling Rock. The Zoid was shaking too much in its stampede for Ibrik to get one in, if her round hit that thing's 60mm chest armor, it would only give away her position. Imbecile probably thinks we're somewhere else, probably running in our direction to find cover. Only thing he's going to find here is us. But Ibrik didn't find comfort in that fact. In a direct melee confrontation, a nimble Zoid like the Guysack had little chance against other Zoids, even small-sized ones like the Hammer Rock.
"Curse him," Ibrik sighed with defeat, "Guess we're done here. Better pull back before he spots us."
"I can handle this," Joanna mockingly imitated as she reversed the Zoid, "Deploying smoke dischargers."
Ibrik pushed her field glasses back into their proper place above as she gazed at the Guysack from her elevated position. The tanks filled with ink-like smoke on the sides of the Zoid unlatched themselves from the main torso, the pins flying off with a hiss as the tanks fell on the ground, releasing black smoke in every direction. The gas melded with the smoke that lingered to create an even thicker fog around their Guysack. She felt her entire cockpit tremor as the Guysack slowly crept out of its makeshift foxhole. A cloud of darkness surrounded Ibrik's canopy from all sides, Joanna were her eyes now. But she still had her ears. And they were telling her something wasn't right.
"Joanna, I can hear it. Louder," Ibrik's eyes widened, "It's running! The wretch is running towards us!"
Joanna spat out an Ancient Zoidian swear word over the intercom. The Guysack's frame jerked violently as Joanna pushed the Zoid harder on reverse gear. Ibrik felt more shudders, it sounded like the whole Zoid was going to fall apart as her cockpit trembled. She could feel vibrations, but it didn't seem as though they were moving. They were remaining motionless as far as she could tell.
"Joanna, what's going on down-?"
"Stuck!" Joanna answered disjointedly, "Damn thing's stuck!"
Ibrik heard the engine whirr as it tried to bring the Guysack out of its ditch. Peering down, the sniper could tell that the Zoid's spindly feet had been caught in the wire of the ground. They had dug too deep, digging up the infrastructure of the town's electrical cable network. Sparks began to fly everywhere as the cables became more and more entangled with the struggling Zoid. Ibrik could have sworn that the Zoid was shrieking in agony.
By now the fumes from the smoke dischargers was beginning to disperse, its deployment ineffective and Ibrik could make out the rampaging silhouette of the Hammer Rock through the smoke. It still hadn't noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time. She considered her two options. One was abandoning the sinking ship. And the other, well… Ibrik took a brief second to ponder them before pulling down her field glasses and setting her sights on the Hammer Rock.
"To hell with it," she whispered under her breath as she doped the scope, lowering the resolution so the enemy fit the frame. Once that had been done, she attempted to align her shaky crosshair with the equally shaky Hammer Rock. Sweat poured down her forehead as her fingers tensed over the gun grip. Her eyebrows arched together like a bat's wings and when she saw her window of opportunity, she fired.
BLAM! The bullet flew towards the Hammer Rock with resounding speed as Ibrik spotted its point of impact. The left shoulder pad of the Hammer Rock. Dust blew around that area as chinks of armor fell down. It was a loose shot though, a near miss almost. The pilot probably didn't even feel that and most likely attributed it to a shard of debris or something.
"Joanna, how are we doing down there?" Ibrik asked as she chambered another round.
"Getting there…" was Joanna's response through gritted teeth. Ibrik made out the snapping of some wires as Joanna used the Guysack's jaws to pull the wires out from underneath it.
Ibrik returned her attention back to the Hammer Rock. The distance was closing between them. It was only a matter of time before it noticed them. Ibrik pulled the trigger.
As the round flew into the air, the Hammer Rock descended down a crater in the road, making it narrowly miss the intended victim. But the Hammer Rock had spotted the glint of the scope now. It knew where its target was now. The element of surprise was gone.
"Ah, Moons." Ibrik chambered another round and fired. The round bounced right off the Hammer Rock's torso as the Imperial Zoid began to fire its beam vulcans. Ibrik felt dizzy as the Guysack trembled even more, making her job that much harder. Smog kicked in the air as the Hammer Rock emerged from the foxhole, guns blazing. The deafening sound of the beam vulcans rang in Ibrik's ears as she struggled to remain focused on the target.
Focus. She fired another bullet. The round harmlessly missed the Zoid. At any rate at least the Hammer Rock wasn't faring any better. Its constant running was painfully decreasing its accuracy as its rounds zipped past the Guysack. But its purpose wasn't to hit, as Ibrik realized when the Hammer Rock closed the distance and lifted its massive fists into the air before bringing them down on the Guysack…only to distract.
The grinding of metal screeched through Ibrik's ears as she gritted her teeth. The knuckles of the Hammer Rock had crashed down with an unrelenting fury. Joanna had reacted almost instantly and was attempting to hold the Rock at bay with the claws of the Guysack, the pincers encircled around the Rock's fists, keeping them in mid-bay. She wouldn't hold out for long though, Ibrik could tell, as she saw the limbs connecting the claws with the main body of the Guysack were already beginning to bend with the strain. The Hammer Rock seemed to be mocking them, its massive fuselage towering theirs as the pilot increased the hydraulic strength of its arms. The pincers caved in and shattered to pieces as the Hammer Rock crushed the Zoid's arms. Flames and sparks flew from every direction.
"Hell!" Ibrik heard Joanna scream over the intercom. Ibrik braced for cover as the Hammer Rock opened its right fist wide open and brought it over the tail of the Guysack, holding it in its menacing, vice-like grip.
"He's got me!" Ibrik cried. The cockpit shook violently as Ibrik's head clattered against the walls of it, her aviator-style balaclava being her skull's only protection, "Ugly bastard's got me!" Alarms inside the cockpit blared loudly, telling her what she already knew.
"Shoot that prick!" Joanna roared, "Shoot him!"
"Can't…" Ibrik attempted to say as she gripped the gun control as though her life depended on it, "Can't…aim…" The on-screen crosshair shuddered as the Hammer Rock's face came closer.
"Aim, what the hell do you – just shoot the asshole!" Joanna shrieked, her panic doing little to aid Ibrik.
The whole Zoid rumbled as Ibrik tightened her eyes. There it was; the ugly snickering face of the Hammer Rock. Cold, heartless. Ibrik couldn't make out the Zoidian figure inside. And it was Zoidian. Hhn, Zoidian. The thought had never occurred to her before. Snipers weren't like that. They weren't like ordinary soldiers who had face-to-face confrontations with their enemies. Snipers were detached – unconnected, their every engagement not personal. Until now. Ibrik looked right into the eyes of the son of a bitch and pulled the trigger without remorse.
At near point-blank range the round went off, hurling the Zoids away from each other like opposing magnetic forces. The Rock's hand detached from the Guysack's tail as the round exploded right in its face, shattering the canopy of the gorilla-type Zoid in a blinding flash. The Imperial Zoid staggered back, its arms flailing uselessly as its head exploded, scattering shards of armor before falling prostrate onto the earth in a shattering racket.
Ibrik herself had not been spared from the shot as the entirety of the Guysack's tail had twisted all the way back to an angle of one-thirty degrees. The rapid-fire motion tossed Ibrik back and had she not been wearing her safety harness; her back might have snapped at the force. White-hot smoke sifted from the barrel of the gun and there were spider-web cracks on Ibrik's orange canopy from the kinetic force. Her rifle's scope was completely broken as well, and the image projected on her field glasses by it flickered with static. The once gray tail of the armless Zoid was now covered in soot and ash.
Ibrik struggled to catch her breath in between wheezing gasps. The hydrostatic shock had been staggering, jolting Ibrik's every sense. Gripping her forehead in between her hands, she wiped off the dirty sweat and blinked her eyes multiple times, as if to verify whether or not she had just shot a Hammer Rock head-first with her sniper rifle. Her pocket watch had fallen off from its place and now rested in her lap. The adrenaline inside her was still pumping and she felt oddly snared and claustrophobic in the tight confinements of her cockpit. In one swift motion, she reached out to the cockpit lever and pulled it, resulting in her cockpit's canopy opening up with a whirr.
Fresh air filled her nostrils and she took a deep breath in relief. She clenched and unclenched her fists, doing a routine physical check and noting that her suit's neck brace had snapped during the engagement. She uncurled her fingers and took off her standard-issue pilot balaclava as she observed the mechanical carcass of the Hammer Rock. The flames from the shot were still burning and the prints in the mud where its fists had once been still visible. There were even a few lingering fragments of the Rock's armor still falling from the air like rain from heaven. Ibrik quickly turned her gaze away when she heard a crackle over the intercom.
"L-Le-kzzzz-t's not ever do that again," Joanna said over the fuzzy intercom.
"Yeah, let's not." Ibrik replied.
"Look at that." Joanna whistled, "Look at that, Ibrik…that's what we're gonna be one day if you keep this reckless behavior up."
Ibrik glanced downwards at the Hammer Rock once more. The corpse of the former Zoid was smoldering, its armor literally melting from the heat of the burning engine. A moment ago when the Imperial Zoid was dominating them, when it had prepared for the coup de grace, Ibrik spotted the silhouette of the pilot inside. Nothing personal, just doing my job, seemed to be what he or she was saying. As though the justification that this was your 'occupation' excluded it from what it as about to commit. Murder, pure and simple. Ibrik felt apathetic as she looked at the Zoid. She tried to sympathize, tried to feel sorry. After a while she stopped struggling to, and fell back on her seat. Nothing personal, she thought to herself.
"That was close."
"Definitely too close." Ibrik ratified.
After a second of silence, they both went back to work. Joanna continued dragging what was left of their Guysack out of the foxhole while Ibrik attempted to contact HQ for aid. Both of them had already forgotten about the kill score by this point.
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2122 hours, Sep 7th
TOC, Bivouac Hassin
Base of the 5th Republican Zoic Android Brigade Group
Twenty kilometers southeast of Yeil
"Sir, authenticated and coded telegram Aveq-119 received," a radioman reported as he tapped several keys on the keyboard, "Translating."
Lieutenant Colonel Grant Wash of the 6th Zoic Android Assault Battalion (6th ZABN) strode over the radioman and reached out for the paper just as it exited the telegraph. Aveq-119? The lieutenant colonel frowned, recognizing the alphanumerical code for an executive order. Tearing the flimsy paper from the machine, he then walked over to the ray of light from an overhead halogen lamp and narrowed his eyes, trying to read the fine black print.
"By the almighty Moons of the heavens," his superior, Colonel Shaddai-Av Amadeus swore as he flipped through the stack of telegrams received in the last two hours, "These report circulations drive me up the wall. Look at this one, Grant. 'Republic Supercannon prototype.' Why are we wasting our taxes on this unnecessary bull? And this one, reports about that Gambino guy, the one whose men defected? Honorable suicide my ass."
The colonel paused briefly and glanced over at his subordinate when he realized that he might as well be talking to a stone wall. The man was soaked in tense perspiration and his eyes darted across the page like a machine-gun unloading its bandoliers. Amadeus paced over to his side.
"Lt. Colonel, you alright?" Colonel Amadeus asked, his eyes suspiciously squinting as he spotted Wash's hands shaking and intense focus on the paper in his clammy grip, "What's that you have there, let me see."
The lieutenant colonel complied without a word, handing over paper with several pictures attached via paperclip on it. Colonel Amadeus held it firmly with one gloved hand and scanned the page with his eagle-like eyes. By the time he had completed the first paragraph and had a peek through those pictures, a look of fear had already crept onto his face. Fear. On the colonel's face, it was nearly unheard of. Even the radioman took notice and turned from his post, his expression one of anxiety.
"Moons almighty," Amadeus whispered. He shared a look with Lt. Colonel Wash. Wash nodded. Amadeus proceeded to adjust his tight collar. "I heard one of them generals talking about this before – this Zenebas punk. If he's coming…then what of our operation?" He took another fleeting look at the attached pictures, satellite photos of Republican Zoids laid to waste, their biomechanical body parts visible with the resolution, strewn across the entire city whilst the city's buildings and infrastructure remained fairly intact.
"They call him 'Kreep,' according to what I heard," Lt. Colonel Wash mentioned, "Comes from that old myth, sir. Have you ever heard of it, sir?"
"Kreep, the worm who ate the wicked." Colonel Amadeus replied, familiar with the ancient folktale, "If he's already past the Red River border and approaching fast to the Khamer…we'd best be on our guard." Lt. Colonel Wash nodded in response. Colonel Amadeus took in a sharp intake of breath before launching pre-emptive orders.
"Set the alert standby one notch higher, increase recon perimeter by twenty-five and post officers of the watch further off the boundary. Set the whole brigade on high alert, even combat service support battalions like the Medical, Ordnance, hell, even the Finance Battalion just in case! I want routine rotations of patrols on the towns around the river, specifically the northern ones like Amal or Yeil. Make sure there are no Zenebas soldiers creeping in under our radar and tell our guys and gals to keep an eye out for this 'Kreep.' I want him dead before our offensive launches." the colonel ordered with a firm and controlled cadence. Yet one could still sense the restrained anxiety in his voice, as hard as the man tried to hide it.
"Sir," Lt. Colonel Wash began, "Might I recommend consulting Gunnery Officer Claudia Giuseppe of the 16th SSBN? This seems to be her field of specialty."
"The human one?" the colonel asked, struggling to recall her.
"Yes sir, there is only one human CO in this brigade." Wash confirmed, "Her battalion specializes in marksmanship, 'sniping' I believe the politically correct term is. The 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion? We might have a higher chance of tagging this Kreep if we have sharpshooters of our own on our side."
The colonel frowned for a moment, contemplating the lieutenant colonel's suggestion before speaking, "All right very well, have this Officer…'Giuseppe' present in the war-room at 2300 hours. No scratch that, I want all four ZABN lieutenant colonels to be there, you included. You are dismissed, lieutenant colonel."
Lt. Colonel Wash snapped into action, saluting the colonel once and clicking his boots together before exiting the tactical operations center to fulfill his duty. The colonel meanwhile, had slumped onto the commanding seat and was thoughtfully analyzing the pictures he had been given. Incredible really, how a single pilot could wipe out nearly ten to twelve fully-armed Zoids. Surely amidst the chaos someone must have caught the Imperial worm. But for every engagement that this so-called 'Kreep' was spotted at, none had made it out alive. If you racked up all of this Kreep's so-called 'kills' as of now, he'd be a certified ace, Amadeus noted drily, As if I don't already have enough on my plate…
Colonel Amadeus had already considered the possibility of this 'Kreep' being a tool of propaganda. A fictitious savior of the Zenebas army and a way to motivate them. A war legend. But one of the pictures attached said otherwise. It was a shaky and blurred image, taken from the visual readouts of the black box of a Republican Zoid in its last moments of operations. A shimmer of red. And a black blur that was clearly a modified rifle mounted on its back. What kind of an idiot would paint his entire Zoid red? Amadeus wondered, utterly bewildered, Sure, most Imperial Zoids were painted red but the bulk of their frame was a gunmetal grey. Most field Zoids had toned down reds as well, some of them had entirely new paint schemes for different environments, to add. In an urban one, one would expect a Zenebas pilot to stick with the default one, but this Kreep had done the absurd by painting the entire thing bright red. He might as well paint crosshairs on his cockpit.
The colonel breathed out a heavy sigh and reached into a desk drawer for a 200ml bottle of ether, pouring the ethyl alcoholic beverage into a small cup. It doesn't matter how good this Kreep thinks he is, Amadeus assured himself as he readied himself to take a swig, as long as the offensive is successful, I don't think we'll end up like the rest of these sorry bastards. It's an exec order but…maybe…
He took another squint down at the images. The mutilated bodies of the Zoids torn apart by hard hitting rounds. The split head of a Snakes unit. The Godos that must have been shot off a roof and fallen down; impaling itself on a cemetery gate's spire. Amadeus shuddered and quickly poured the drink back into its proper place before slipping both the bottle and the cup back into the drawer. He shook his head in an attempt to stop living in fantasies as he got off his seat.
"Sir?" the radioman asked as the colonel's imposing shape approached him.
"Um…" Colonel Amadeus droned, dragging the last syllable as he brooded, "Boy, contact Chaplain Titus. Tell him to meet me in my quarters in an hour. Tell him…" the colonel paused again, slightly embarrassed at what he was about to say, "Tell him I want him there for a confessional."
The radioman looked slightly worried at the colonel's request; it was the first time he had asked for the chaplain. As the radioman swirled his chair back to the console to contact Chaplain Titus, Colonel Amadeus walked out of the tactical operations center.
"Moons help us all."