Excerpt from transcript 'Concerning Central Continent Literature and Culture'
By Assistant Director of the Delpoi Folklore Society (DFS), Tita Breeze
Conducted 26th April, ZAC 2040 at 9th Annual DFS Congregation
…It was a tale common amongst the people of the Earth Tribe, that the source of the tectonic instability in the earliest days of the advent calendar was a massive subterranean annelid known only as 'Kreep.' Its name is derived from the Earth Tribe's dialect word for 'the worm who eats.' Though there are many different variations of the story throughout the generations, the oldest primary media record dates back to ZAC 998, written in a manuscript anthologized in several scrolls, found under the catacombs of what is now Helic City. These scrolls speak of Kreep as the sword of the Moons, the angel who served its masters. Legend has it that Kreep was sent by the Moons above to watch the people of Zi and punish them for their wrongs. It was said that the worm sneaks unsuspectingly under the ground, hidden from plain sight and searching for evil men and women before surging out of the earth and devouring the wicked.
Eerily enough, when Helic Muroa managed to bind the warring tribes of Delpoi together when he instigated an 'assault' from the tribes of the Dark Continent, these tectonic disturbances stopped occurring and even more strangely, began occurring again during the Central Continent War. One can't help but wonder if there is some connection, no matter how irrational, there is between these whispering legends and the actual truth. Some of you might clearly be skeptical about this. I am aware that with the introduction of so many new innovations of technology and science by the humans have definitely helped this planet improve as both a race and a developing civilization, but I hope that we do not lose sight of our cultural roots and heritage in the process…
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0014 hours, Sep 8th
War-Room, Bivouac Hassin
Gunnery Officer Claudia Giuseppe of the 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion crossed her arms tightly as she gazed at the war-room's clock. 2414 hours, Claudia noted, an hour or so late. She sighed. Rumor had it that the colonel had called the chaplain to his room for a 'confessional,' apparently the colonel was stressed out by something – so stressed that he had fallen back on religious deities. Claudia wasn't one for religion, back on her home-planet of Earth, an ultimatum known as 'dictum sabbathia' had been issued, which banned the practice of any form of organized religion. She hadn't known any higher presence since her birth, rather, she preferred to put her trust in more grounded things like skill and will.
Both had been useful during her time on the battlefield. She was only sixteen when she arrived on Zi and signed up for the Republican Army's then-developing Zoids program. One of the first markswomen of the army, she had passed her cadre's selection process with flying colors and was also one of the few awarded by the Republican High Command a marksmanship award known as the Sniper Master's Badge after her impressive performance in the Battle for the Red River. She still had it on with her and she wore that badge proudly, a third-grade Sniper Master's Badge for seventy-two enemy kills. Of course, she never wore it into actual combat. One couldn't expect the enemy to be particularly lenient to a sniper POW.
"Where the hell is he?" Lt. Colonel Amos Mohinder, the head of the 17th ZABN exclaimed abruptly. Claudia jolted back into awareness. The 17th ZABN CO's whining had caused several others from fading into sleep as well.
"Give the man time," Lt. Colonel Wash answered with a sigh. He had been saying permutations of that exact sentence for an hour now. Exhaustion from a day's work was taking its toll on everyone, and Wash's tone showed that even he was struggling to keep his resolve.
Claudia glanced around the room. Annabella Imprin of the 8th ZABN had already fallen asleep on the table, her cheek and arms sprawled all over the map of the Central Continent while Mohinder sat on a chair, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. Wash was fiddling with his collar, trying to get an itching spot whilst the final ZABN commanding officer, Dakon Flengéle, was smoking a cigar despite the fact that that was against campus rules.
Flengéle took a puff before voicing his opinion, "I think the old man's gone soft."
"What's wrong with praying to the Moons?" Wash asked, keeping his tone cautiously and pacifistically neutral. Despite the fact that worship of Zi's three natural satellites was the global religion of the planet, some Zoidians were slowly becoming a little more dubious of it with the advent of both technology and the arrival of humans. All of a sudden the Zoidians didn't feel so important now that they knew there were others like them out there.
"Nothing, I guess," Flengéle admitted, "Just seems out of character for the colonel."
Claudia silently agreed but did not say anything. She felt awkward being in the war-room; generally the 16th SSBN was a support battalion and did not engage in the planning stages of the brigade. Only these select four ZABN superiors and the colonel machinated the plans, support battalions like hers just followed orders. Everything that happened inside the war-room was strictly confidential as well. Rank-wise, she was at least one pay grade below everyone else in the room, hell, she'd probably only been into the war-room two or three times at the most. Claudia was fully aware that the meeting here was to plan how to repel the invading Zenebas forces from the north-west, who were pushing into the Khamer, but why she was here was anyone's guess. But the colonel had specifically requested her presence and her well-trained senses told her that chances are, it probably had something to do with her battalion's 'expertise.'
Wash was being awfully quiet as well. He was more or less the right-hand man of the colonel, a soft-spoken individual with a brilliant tactical mind and someone who was absolutely ruthless in battle. He had remained impertinent about revealing what was troubling the colonel and what the meeting had been called for, though it was fairly evident that he knew. Claudia didn't prod him; Wash didn't crack easily under pressure. But still, the reasons bugged at her, like a nimbostratus cloud hanging over her and she itched to find out why her attendance was required.
Guess I'll find out now, she told herself as she smiled silently at the coincidence as the colonel himself suddenly strode into the room. Near instantly, as though a current of electricity had just surged throughout the room's occupants, everyone immediately strapped up to attention. Even the slumbering Imprin, who was shaken awake by Mohinder, rubbed her groggy eyes and saluted the colonel. Flengéle crushed his cigar skillfully under the table before slipping it into his rear pocket. Claudia herself, despite her sleep-deprived brain and body, forced herself to stand straight and salute her commanding officer. The colonel put a stop to it all with a wave of his hands as he strode over to the discussion table, a thick binder in his hand. Claudia grimaced as she caught his expression.
Colonel Amadeus' face was grim, the expression one would expect from a man on death row. His black hair was messy as was his stubble, with the occasional white strand and his plump physique seemed to sag with him as he walked, his coarse and oily skin reflecting off in the dim light. What could be so foreboding? The gunnery sergeant speculated the possibilities as she reached for a chair at the table, but none seem to come to mind. As the other lieutenant colonels took their own seats, the Colonel sat himself down and opened the binder with a heavy sigh. Inside were several papers and a stack of photos which he then slipped to the center of the table. He propped back on his chair as everyone else except Wash scrambled to get a look of the photos.
A curtain of silence swept across the entire congregation. Looks of disbelief and horror smeared themselves on everyone's face. Even Flengéle for once had nothing to say. Claudia herself nearly felt her jaw slip down comically. Her eyes widened as she looked at two of the satellite-taken images. Towns filled with the dead carcasses of Republican Zoids. All of a sudden she finally understood what the idiom 'butterflies in the stomach' meant.
"Moons Almighty." Imprin finally whispered after a long and awkward moment of dead air, "Those poor bastards."
"…What…happened, sir?" Mohinder asked, stuttering somewhat.
"An executive order came just several hours ago to eliminate the Zenebas asset that caused this destruction. Interception of Zenebas communiqués by our own cryptographers tells us that this asset's callsign is 'Kreep,' aside from that we do not know much." The colonel scampered through the pile of images and selected the one showcasing the red blur, "Here's all we have of this Kreep. We don't know anything aside from the fact that it's being accompanied by stationary Zoid decoys, all of which are painted red. How it looks like. Nothing. Only thing going through its victims' corpses tell us is that it uses a 70mm bullet."
"Leading intelligence to believe that this 'Kreep' is a sniper unit. Tactics and its modus operandi seem to fit the profile, which is why I've requested your presence, Officer," the colonel explained as he glanced at Claudia, "Because this brigade has sniper units and is the closest to the Khamer, we have been mobilized on a man hunt for this Kreep. We are already aware that Zenebas forces have forced us to retreat from the Red and into the Khamer. They're closing in on us. We can expect this Kreep to arrive as well. That serves as a problem towards our fallback plan, which was to initiate an aggressive hold-the-front assault in the event that the Red forces pulled back. Until we find this Zenebas sniper…I'm afraid the assault's been put on hold."
A fleet of murmurs began to circle around the room and even Claudia found herself somewhat taken aback. Now the colonel's sudden epiphany didn't appear so much as an overreaction. Now she understood the gravity of the predicament, a whole brigade being mobilized for an enemy with no face. It only made her realize how dire circumstances were.
"The whole fuc-" Mohinder began before being cut off.
"The whole battalion, Lt. Colonel. Over the course of three days only, as well." Colonel Amadeus affirmed. Mohinder placed a fist to his lips as he let out a sharp breath.
"Kreep? As in the worm?" Imprin asked. Claudia wanted to ask what in hell a worm had to do with the callsign, but politely held her own thoughts back.
"Yes, the worm. Kreep." The colonel answered with a gesture, "Beginning with a K. The Earth Tribe legend, not the English verb."
Flengéle coughed politely as he posed his queries, "Sir, how do we know for sure that there is only one single unit, if there are no survivors or witnesses to tell the tale? And how do we know this unit is a…" he said the next word with a near condescending tone, "…sniper?"
Claudia raised one eyebrow suggestively at the 19th ZABN commanding officer's intonation but the colonel was direct to the point in his response, "Yes, Flengéle, we know for sure that there is only one single unit. According to this report, a complete correlation by the forensics department of all the dead Zoids' black boxes has been made which do show the presence of several other Zenebas Zoids, generally irrelevant ones like Gators or Iguans. They were painted red as well. Funny thing was, we never found any bodies in the Republican Zoids we recovered. 'Cept dead ones."
"He's using them as cannon fodder…using those Gators…Iguans as decoys…" Claudia suddenly muttered, her sniper training instinctually coming to a disclosure. Using so many decoys just for a single unit?
"That is the prevailing opinion," the colonel said in agreement, "But none of the Zoids showed deaths from these units. Most simply went offline in a second and in the clips of those that did, the sound of a crack can be heard. The sonic boom of a high-precision rifle. The 70mm round found in these units matches it as well; each one from all the towns in the Red River this 'Kreep' was sighted."
"It does make logical sense, sir," Claudia acknowledged, "A sniper's primary goal is to support a larger combat unit, but you can do the flipside and have the combat unit serve as distractions for a sniper to take down priority targets undisturbed. Kreep might also have used them to keep the enemy busy while he-or she, stalked for vantage points or noted enemy strength. The small group was protected by Kreep and the number also made defending them more manageable."
"Your second question is answered then, Flengéle." The colonel finished off.
"Surely someone must have heard this…sonic boom then, sir?" Mohinder inquired.
"The sound of gunfire can significantly mask the sound of sniper fire." Claudia answered for the colonel, suddenly feeling as though she was taking the spotlight, "Even if they did hear it and tried to locate the starting point of the sound, this 'Kreep' might have relocated. Snipers often relocate after a few shots to confuse the enemy and for the human…or Zoidian ear to accurately pinpoint where a shot's origin is…the person in question needs to be at least five-hundred to five-hundred and twenty meters from the origin point."
Flengéle made a rude noise but Claudia ignored him, "What were the time parameters of these shots, sir? Do you know?"
Wash held up a sheet of paper to the light to read the fine print as he noted, "A mean average of nine seconds in each interval, with the pattern of a deviation included; a thirty-second interval more or less."
"The time between shots, and the time between his relocation, right?" Imprin asked Claudia, who nodded.
"Kreep's being patient. Taking time between shots to make sure they hit true. One shot; one kill. The sniper's adage."
"It's red." Mohinder obtusely commented as he scanned the blurred image, "I thought snipers were meant to camouflage? I don't think red blends well with the urban environment."
"For all we know, it might not be a Zoid. That might not be him, even," Wash reasoned, "It could be something else maybe, a burning Zenebas flag?"
"Possible." Mohinder quipped, too tired to debate.
"Gunnery Officer," the colonel suddenly interrupted, "I know it's abrupt, but do you already have a general outline for a proposal in mind?"
Claudia coughed uncomfortably as all eyes were turned on her. The cogs and gears in her head were already spinning into action – suddenly her presence here was understood by Claudia. Taking a subtle breath, she began, "Under the assumption that this Kreep is a sniper, the best course of action during combat would be to pull a bluff, sir." Claudia offered.
"Bluff?" Wash said aloud.
"Elaborate," the colonel ordered.
"We need to lure him out, sir," Claudia explained, "Zenebas cantonments have already been set up in the towns a little northern, like Amal or Yeil. If we assume that Kreep is advancing towards one of them, more likely to be Yeil, we could create our own distraction by using our assault towards Zenebas forces there. We don't alter the plan, sir, simply integrate it. Rather than hunting Kreep down prior to this assault, we launch the offensive and then kill Kreep in the process. It'll significantly lower casualties caused by this 'Kreep,' and also keep rumors of Zenebas marksman down. Amidst the crossfire, it would be hard for a sniper, even a seasoned one, to locate targets. Our own counter-sniper fire will be masked by it as well."
"We have an ace up our sleeves too, Kreep is not aware that we have snipers of our own on our side. Our snipers could now act as counter-snipers and instead use the general forces to act as distractions so that it could give the chance for my SSBN women to take down this Kreep. It's an assault; paired with a hunt. Two birds; one stone."
"Two birds…one stone?" Flengéle said with a sneer, obviously unfamiliar with the largely human idiom.
The colonel toyed with his stubble as he mused, "A competent strategy you have there, officer. You seem fairly confident in your tactic, though it still doesn't ease me. We are facing a bogey right now; we have no knowledge of what it is, its capabilities, and its weaknesses. We have nothing on our sides. Make no mistake, soldiers; I fear there will be casualties in this."
Colonel Amadeus stretched out his arms to smoothen the Delpoi map on the table as he reached for a case of geometrical tools, compasses, rulers and such while the other lieutenant colonels and Claudia herself eased closer to the table surface.
The colonel cracked his knuckles as he brought his resolve back together. Apparently the chaplain did provide some comfort, Claudia remarked to herself. She could tell Colonel Amadeus was trying to shape himself up to be the competent leader he was supposed to be. She felt a slight tinge of newfound respect for her CO.
"It's nearly going to be dawn now, and we don't have much time to form a battle plan." Colonel Amadeus said as reached for a marker, "Let's begin."
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1438 hours, Sep 9th
Khamer-River town Yeil, Delpoi
Sergeant Ibrik Scylla pushed the bullet-ridden door aside as she exited the washroom. Zipping her pants back up in one swift motion, she made her way over to the whirring Guysack where her partner Joanna Don was waiting. The Guysack had had extensive repairs by the engineering battalion, supervised by Ibrik herself after their encounter with the Hammer Rock. It was in full operational status, aside from its right pincer, which was deemed unfit for service and had to be 'amputated' off the Zoid without administered painkillers.
The Zoid had not moved from its sniping position at all, in fact it had barely even shifted a step for the last three hours from its post on the second floor of what was once a Yeilian hotel. The bombed-out skeleton of the building provided the perfect sniping spot for them, despite the five-meter ceiling restriction, which meant that the Guysack's tail had to be pressed down on its back for the Zoid to fit, another reason why generally smaller Zoids were chosen for the role of a sniper. Still, it was an ideal location for their mission objective, which was hunting down the Zenebas asset known as 'Kreep.' Only thing Gunnery Officer Giuseppe had told them was to look out for anything 'red.'
Tension and unease had filled the entire brigade as the mass mobilization coded as 'Operation Season' began. The entirety of the 6th ZABN had scrambled into action early yesterday morning, when it was just the break of dawn and had swarmed into the Khamer-River towns, crossing the DMZs that had separated the Republic from the Zenebas forces. Whilst the other units were mounting their assaults, the snipers of the 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion had been split into individual towns, moving into position, keeping their Zoids concealed in the most creative of hiding spots to snipe the enemy. The order was clear and simple: Find Kreep, kill Kreep. One shot; one kill.
One shot; one kill, the sniper's motto rang through Ibrik's mind as she mounted herself back up into her cockpit on the scorpion-type Zoid's tail. Despite that she, like most Zoids pilots, had been taught to be able to minimize water consumption and refrain from urinating during operational times, Ibrik couldn't resist emptying her tight bladder when she had spotted the hotel's bathroom. Joanna, on the other hand, wasn't willing to take the chance.
"It took you five minutes to piss and climb back up there." Joanna buzzed just as Ibrik slipped into her cockpit and placed her comm link headphones on.
"You actually counted?" Ibrik asked with a laugh as she clipped her safety harness on.
"Just imagine, in that five minutes, someone spots Kreep. And we miss the shot, we can't take it. Why?" Joanna said, stressing every syllable with an exaggerated tone, "Because Sergeant Scylla needed a potty break."
"I wasn't shitting," Ibrik said in her defense, somewhat lamely. Joanna did have a point, but Ibrik found she was somewhat unwound. They were given strict orders not to engage enemies, as it ran the risk of revealing their spots. The agitation had somewhat dissipated after one day and several additional hours in the same posture.
"We can't take risks like that, Ibrik," Joanna said, frustrated at her friend's trivialness on the matter, "From what Officer Giuseppe said, this Kreep is dangerous; you can't just let your guard slip because you're bored! You have to stay frosty."
"I know, damn it-"
"Wait, shh, hold on," Joanna discontinued her friend, "Turn on the open channel on your wireless."
Ibrik decided to let the argument and dropped and switched the Republican channel on, sending a flood of messages into her pinging device. The machine slowly registered the coded messages and a flock of reports burst onto her small monitor screen just below her joystick controls. Ibrik felt her throat dry up as she scanned through them. Suddenly her sniper grounding kicked into full alert status.
"Kreep is advancing." Ibrik said, paraphrasing straight from the reports, "Wouldn't Kreep fall back? In between all these firefights?"
"Maybe Kreep's just insane in the brain," said Joanna with a monotone, "Moment we get reports about Kreep sightings, people suddenly drop. He's revising his sniper strategy."
"He's lost it, look at this one, he's even branching off from his own decoys apparently. He's acting like an assault unit now."
"True. But then again maybe he can afford it. Like if he's a superweapon-type thing." Joanna replied in agreement before arbitrarily commenting, "Funny how we refer to Kreep as a male, don't you think?"
"He is the generally accepted singular personal pronoun for the English language," Ibrik answered after a momentary pause, "You hear humans saying he this, and he that. Only time it's a she is when they're talking about Zoids."
"Or ships."
"Or ships. Or planes. Sometim-"
"Don! Scylla!" a voice suddenly interrupted through the channel. Ibrik recognized it as belonging to Private Hensel Permagunde, the sniper of the other Guysack unit in the vicinity and a relatively new addition to the ranks of the 16th SSBN, "Stock exchange building, across the road, third-floor window, second from the right! Look!" The private's high-pitched voice was nearly bursting with excitement.
"What is it?" Ibrik said out loud as she pulled down the field glasses from above her and slowly maneuvered it to locate the window that Permagunde was indicating. It took a moment for Ibrik to find where Permagunde was indicating to, these river towns often had confusing Water Tribe-style architecture, curved and parabolic arches like the ocean, what some humans had referred to as 'post-modernist-esque' design, whatever the hell that meant. When she located the correct window though, she found the source of the private's discomposure. A red gleam.
"Is that him? Is that Kreep?" Ibrik asked, barely able to contain her trepidation.
"Maybe it's an optical illusion? Like a trick of the light thing?" Joanna asked out loud. Ibrik had considered that. It didn't seem right that a skilled marksman would conceal himself behind a piece of glass. A translucent piece of glass, no less. Then again, Joanna did say he's probably insane. Painting a sniper Zoid red was already insane.
"This is it, ladies," Sergeant Tec Kempfer, Permagunde's spotter said exultantly, "This is the perfect situation – where we can see him but he can't see us."
"I don't know…" Joanna said apprehensively, "Shouldn't he already be aware that there are snipers, I mean reports say he did drop some SSBN members as well. How does it look like from your vantage point?"
"Can't see clearly, even with the maximum x7 magnification," Kempfer answered from her position high on the roof of an apartment complex, behind a water tank and under a piece of camouflage canvas, "Looks like a red…smear from up here."
"If it ain't him...he'll know we're here if we shoot. Might expose us. Could be a decoy for all we know," Joanna continued.
"And then the hunter becomes the hunted," Kempfer said cynically, "That is a risk I'm willing to take. If we can nail him now… right now, we're dominating. Right now, we're the hunters stalking our game."
"Have you made the call?" Joanna questioned Permagunde.
"Not yet, I'm on it," Permagunde said hurriedly. Ibrik could hear her over the intercom, "Command post, command post. This is SB-17, over. We have a visual on Zenebas asset 'Kreep,' break. Heavily limited view of target background, break. Awaiting further instruction."
Ibrik bit her lip nervously as she heard Permagunde say a few 'yessirs' and 'yes, ma'ams' before breaking contact. She hastily dived in, "Well, what do we do?"
Ibrik would've bet her whole month's pay cheque that Permagunde was grinning from ear to ear as she gave Joanna the reply, "Command wants us to take the shot – if we can. A coordinated one, too. Might not have another chance, and we don't have any other forces to support us. All heavily engaged. Might scare Kreep away too if he sees units closing in."
"Why coordinated?" Ibrik asked before adding sarcastically, "Command worried that one 70-mm round won't leave a big enough hole?"
"Can't risk it, we still don't know what Kreep can do," Permagunde explained, "Plus, it'll confuse him, right?"
"Not at this range, I don't think," Kempfer stated, "But don't quote me on that."
"Sisters…are you sure this is the best thing to do?" Joanna asked, "I mean, command's rushing into it…makes me feel like an expendable."
"Command's probably afraid we won't get another shot, and at any rate, why would the Empire leave a decoy in clear sight without risking the death of their own soldier? It's probably Kreep just going a little mental," Kempfer reasoned, "Now come on, let's lock and load."
"I still don't like it…" was Joanna's only response.
"Hoo boy…" Ibrik said with a whistle as she cracked her neck, feeling the foamy neck brace turn around as she prepared herself both mentally and physically. Radio silence came on impromptu, aside from the most critical of relays. Ibrik could hear Joanna sliding clicks and pressing buttons over the intercom. Ibrik herself started the routine by turning off the safety switch and loading a new round into the chamber. The screen flashed 'CLEAR.'
"Loaded. Call for fire please," Ibrik said as she pulled down the field glasses once more and kept her sights on the window. Looking at the bearing on top of her glasses, she shifted the Guysack's tail accordingly before pressing down on the intercom once more, "Range it."
"Hold on…" Joanna said, trailing off as she gauged the distance, "80 yards. Stationary."
Ibrik keyed it in and the on-board computer hummed as it concocted a firing solution. Ibrik noted the windage on the stadia marks both left, and right. Carefully, she toyed with the gyroscopes, bringing her reticule onto the target, directing the crosshairs so it was placed squarely at where she predicted Kreep would be. At this distance, she didn't even have to worry about the chevrons for bullet drop.
"Hold scope…" Joanna ordered as she patched herself into Permagunde and Kempfer's channel, "Have you guys got a solution?"
"Roger that," Kempfer answered.
"Fire when ready," Joanna told Ibrik this time.
"On my mark, Permagunde," Ibrik whispered, somehow fearful that Kreep might hear them, "Three. Two."
"Mark."
The two Guysacks fired their sniper rifles in coordination, the sonic booms setting off as their hard-hitting rounds left the barrels with a bang. Ibrik's cockpit jerked back as the rifle fired but she quickly recovered before rushing to put the field glasses on the scan setting. It did not even take a second before the bullets made contact and the window glass split into a firework of shards.
"Hit." Joanna said with a concealed chortle of victory.
Permagunde let out a yell to follow-up Joanna's blazon, "Hell yeah! We got him, Sisters, we got that Imperial? Right? We got him now!"
Ibrik let out a sigh, an exasperated one. She found herself smiling, for the first time in two days. It was as though a strenuous weight had been lifted off her. She'd taken the shot – and she'd won.
"Nice job, Sister," Joanna congratulated over the line, "This one's definitely one to catalog."
"Mission accomplished," Ibrik responded as she closed in on her field glasses to survey the shot.
"I'm calling command right now," Permagunde was practically screaming in ecstasy at this point, "They'll be-"
CRACK! Another bullet flew through the air as Ibrik's expression changed. One second she found that the 'red target' they had hit was just a Gator painted red, a decoy, and the next she heard the wireless line with Permagunde and Kempfer go dead. In the tenth of a second that their shots differentiated when they left the barrel, the enemy was able to make out their position. As far as Ibrik knew, only snipers did that – and she had a pretty good guess who as well.
"Damn this, it's him!" Joanna yelled over the line, "Kempfer? Permagunde? You th-ah, crud, he got them!"
"He got them," Ibrik repeated, still somewhat stunned. She quickly panned the Guysack's tail to try to locate the source of the bullet before Joanna cried,
"Ibrik! Stop moving the tail, he'll see-" Just at that moment a second round rang through and narrowly missed Ibrik's cockpit, smashing instead on the cement wall of the hotel with deadly accuracy. Ibrik could see loose plaster scatter from the ceiling above as the bullet sent vibrations through the entire building. She winced at her close brush with death. Joanna, on the other hand, had all senses acute and smartly lowered the Guysack's entire frame until its legs gave way and its belly was flat on the ground, effectively removing whatever visuals Kreep had on them.
"Kempfer? Kempfer?" Ibrik heard Joanna over the connection, "Private? Are you there? If you're still alive, please respond!"
Sweat dripped down Ibrik's forehead as she tightened and loosened her hands into fists, over and over again, an idiosyncrasy of hers that manifested whenever she felt under pressure. She hadn't felt this much pressure since marksmanship school, where the instructors had students jump off ledges to be caught by their partners – just to build trust amongst snipers and spotters. Now, the enemy had the advantage as it knew where they were, and roles had changed. Now, they were the game….and Kreep had become the hunter. Fear gripped Ibrik's very being.
"They're not responding," Joanna said, her tone one of frustration, "But their beacon's still active…Ibrik, switch positions, I'm heading towards them, see if they're still alive. They might have made it out, at least one of them. Bring the Guysack round the back of the building they're on, I'll be waiting there."
Ibrik didn't argue, happy to allow Joanna to take the initiative while she still struggled to grasp hold of their predicament. She pulled the canopy's lever and the entire hatch burst open with a hiss. Beneath her, Joanna did the same with her cockpit and jumped off, giving Ibrik a quick wave of the hand before dashing off towards the hotel's stairs. Ibrik grunted as she removed her harness and unclipped the lowering cable, keeping one foot on the cable's stirrups and one hand on the cable itself as she brought herself a full four-meters down in three seconds. Dismounting from the cable and flicking it once so it reeled itself back up, the sergeant made her way to the main cockpit of the Guysack, jumping once to grip the hand-holds for Zoid desants to heave herself up into the Zoid.
Landing on the cushioned seat, Ibrik glanced sideways at the running figure of Joanna, who could now be seen on the road, dashing somewhat madly towards Permagunde and Kempfer before vanishing into the apartment. Ibrik re-focused her attention back at the instrument panel in front of her, a mass of dials, meters, and buttons that formed the Guysack's main cockpit; a cockpit far more complicated then the sniper one but still one she was far too familiar with. Breathing in one quick, sharp breath of air, she spread her grip over the twin joysticks that commandeered the Guysack's direction and held them tightly. Pull yourself together, Ibrik. This was exactly what they warned you about at marksmanship school, Ibrik scolded herself, and it's all in your head. Kreep is only Zoidian – nothing but a bully. And when bullies shoot you, you shoot the hell back.
With a newfound constancy, Ibrik snapped into action and flicked the LWS switch to green status before reaching for another switch to select the available smoke dispenser on the Guysack's right side. As she yanked the joysticks towards her to lift the Guysack off its prone position, Ibrik simultaneously reached for the cockpit's ceiling and pressed the START button for the smoke dispensers, prompting the right ballast tank to detach and gas out a thick ebony fume around the Guysack. Ibrik smiled grimly, suck on that, Kreep.
The smoke scattered itself all around Ibrik's Zoid, keeping her visually shielded from Kreep. Fully aware that the smokescreen was only temporary, Ibrik nimbly jettisoned her Guysack out of the hotel from the second floor and down on the road below, dragging whiffs of black smoke along with her just as she landed on the asphalt with a clatter. A cloud of dust gathered around the Guysack's elongated legs as it crash-landed and Ibrik felt the entire cockpit jerk with the motions. From her current position, she knew that she was out in the open and on her left was where Kreep was most likely to be. With a flowing gesture, she swiped the toggle switch for the left smoke dispenser and activated it, dispersing the black fumes on the road and around her Zoid once more. Now that she was fully assured that the enemy could not see her – and would not risk a long shot and reveal his position, she backtracked her Guysack away from the cloud, distancing herself from Kreep.
Assuming the elevator's still in service, Ibrik silently thought, Joanna should be up on the roof by now. She pivoted her view upwards and tried to glance at the apartment's roof but at her angle, she couldn't make out if there was anyone there or not. Ibrik did, however, note that the round had pierced the water tank to get to Permagunde and Kempfer, who were most likely taking cover behind a thin surface, a regretful mistake. Water was still dripping off the building's roof and several droplets had made their way onto her dust canopy, obscuring her view as she switched the visual cameras to spotter mode to magnify the distance. A sinking emotion of desolation found its way to Ibrik's heart as she saw a formation of Storches strafing in for the kill. Something that had once been an aid to concealing her shots was about to become her demise.
"Moons Almighty," Ibrik swore. The day just seemed to be one cataclysm after the other. She turned on the radio console and immediately switched to the encoded Republican network. Sure enough, her suspicions were confirmed. The Republican offensive had proved particularly damaging, leading the Zenebas to resort to desperate measures, the bomber squadrons of Storches. A retreat order had already been issued but it must have come through during Ibrik's and Joanna's position switch, which would explain why they never received it. Ibrik swore once more. Perhaps Joanna was right about staying frosty after all. On the other hand though, at least this would get this 'Kreep' off their backs, if only temporarily.
Fall back. That was the first thought in Ibrik's mind as she accessed the on-screen map of Yeil and calculated the distance from her current location to the edge of the town leading to the river. About five-hundred meters, I might make it. The smoke was already beginning to clear out as the wind picked up and the orange silhouettes of the Storches were closing in as well. Ibrik quickly shift the Guysack into reverse gear, falling back behind a small path, a shamble of stalls that had once been a market-place. Come on, come on, you infernal contraption, get those legs pumping! The Guysack's feet thrashed the stalls to shreds and its dull grey paint slowly chipped off as Ibrik toiled to steer the Guysack into a back alley that would safely lead her to the back of the apartment.
"Joanna, where in the name of the Moons are you?" Ibrik muttered as she brought the Guysack to a stop, "Come on….get down here now!" A cacophony of explosions could be heard from the distance and Ibrik knew that the Storches had already begun their attack. It would only be a matter of time before they arrived at her current position. Ibrik unclipped her helmet and safety harness before opening the cockpit and dismounting from it, her heavy combat boots landing on the rocky road with a thud. Double-checking that her pilot's sidearm was fully loaded before slipping it into her thigh holster, the sergeant exited out of the alleyway and into the main junction, determined to recover her missing Sister. Far off she could see the Storches slowly approaching, and a mass of smoke and flames that erupted from where their bombs had hit. Only a matter of time, Ibrik warned herself as she slipped into the apartment.
The building had suffered badly from the after-effects of war, and Ibrik cringed her nose when she smelled the scents of death and corrosion. Walls had been stripped apart and burn marks were everywhere. The stench of dead bodies crept from every corner and the crevices of the lobby were crawling with insects. Ignoring all of it, Ibrik ran towards the elevator of the floor and pressed the button for a response. None came. Shit. Still, the thumping bombs that were itching closer became even louder and louder. Shit. Shit. Shit. Ibrik knew she had to make a decision – and before it was too wouldn't be any more time; Ibrik silently worded a prayer to the Moons for Joanna before guiltily dashing straight out of the apartment and onto the main road once more.
She was already too late. Above her the formation of Storches were beginning to release their pylons and drop their bombs onto the streets of Yeil. A bomb landed about thirty meters away from Ibrik, displacing her into the air with a wild toss as she landed on the earth like a ragdoll. The sound ruptured Ibrik's eardrums as she smashed onto the pavement and blood poured from between her broken teeth. The tenor of detonations were ringing in her ears, and as she struggled to stumble to her feet, she could make out more and more bombs being dropped through her blurred vision, tearing up the town and sending splinters of wood and mud into the air. Ibrik coughed out the soot and tried to regain her focus but all sense of navigation was now lost with the shock. All she could do was wobble away before another explosive landed on the street behind her and flailed her body into the air with a violent and blaring force.
Ibrik was tossed above the pavement for a moment before colliding into the glass window of a nearby department store, wrecking the glass with a loud shatter and landing inside the store in an agonizing crack, glass raining from the explosion like snowflakes on a winter's day. Ibrik's vision slowly descended into blackness and the last thing she could make out was the shadow of a tall figure making his way towards her, his hand tightly gripping a pistol.