XLIII
—Into the Fray—
P. II
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A great scuffle had broken out beneath the burning Ultrasaurus, and the intensity between the fighters had grown hot. Neither side held anything back that would hinder them from conquering the other. It was quite the spectacle from the viewpoints of those watching from within the mobile headquarters. Weapons were being fired and blows were exchanged; the cycle continued again and again.
The Liger Zero sunk its claws into the back of the Leoblaze's neck and shoved its head into the dirt. Bit drove the controls down, crushing the Fuzor's head underneath the Liger's paws. The Leoblaze whipped his blade-like tail and pierced the side of the Zero and wiggled free as soon as its grip weakened. It bashed its head underneath the Liger's chin, leaped high above it, and slammed the Zero's head in the ground with its frontal paws.
Bit cringed with hunched shoulder as the heavy vibrations rattled through the cockpit, and the harness nearly broke his collarbone. The Leoblaze growled menacingly at the Liger Zero, anticipating its next move. Before the Fuzor's integrated NOVA AI had enough time to react, the Liger curled its right paw into fist and struck the Leoblaze across its face. The force of the hit cracked the Fuzor's visor and sent the Zoid stumbling to find its footing.
By the time it found its balance, the Liger Zero drilled its body into the ground, wrapped its jaws around the Fuzor's neck, and set its paw upon the Fuzor's back in an effort to tear its head away. The Nightwise came down from its engagement with the Fire Phoenix and Storm Sworder, marked the Liger Zero, and sent a missile into ground behind it. Bit and his Zoid were catapulted into the air from the impact and landed a distance away.
The Leoblaze picked itself up off the ground and shook the dust from its body. It growled at the Liger Zero, turned aside from it, and headed for the Ultrasaurus. Bit raised his head from the console, feeling a warm sensation that traveled down his forehead. He didn't bother to wipe the blood away as it soaked into his left eyebrow. All that mattered was protecting the Battle Commission. He coaxed the Liger Zero to its feet, dispelled the fatigue building in his burning arms and gave chase.
Yuri and the Photo Zaber and the Elephander battled the Mosasledge, while the Brad and Irvine kept the Unenlagia occupied as Raven and Seraph set fire to the battlefield in a brutal engagement. There was no small talk between them, no playful banter or threats. The fight had one objective—kill the opponent. There would be no middle ground, and Raven would take definite measures to make sure there wasn't one. He drove the Psycho Geno Saurer into the Energy Liger with full force, causing the enemy Zoid to rear up. With controls jerked forward, the head the Geno Saurer lowered and connected with the Liger's chest.
Raven hit the ion boosters; the Energy Liger was driven back on its hind legs until the Geno dropped its full weight on top of it in a brutal tackle. Raven eased back the controls, pulling his Zoid from atop Seraphs'. A thud sounded behind him; the Unenlagia hit the ground, bounced upright seconds later, and continued to engage the Shadow Fox and Lightning Saix.
Raven ignored the vicious battles around him. They didn't matter. His mind was focused and constricted with the discipline of a hardened warrior. There was only one enemy, one target; everything else was secondary. His injuries, his pain, his discomfort—all of it was pushed so far in the depths of his mind that they failed to disable him.
The brain controls the ability to feel pain, Prozen once told him. A soldier, a true soldier, overcomes the brain. You control your body; you control your pain. He doesn't feel it, react to it; the target only matters. Pain is temporary.
Raven recalled the words as easily as he blinked. They were drilled in him, infused in him. He would never forget, for he was trained not to. All pain could be ignored, even though you couldn't see it. But she couldn't be ignored, not Reese.
The Energy Liger shifted onto its side and dug its claws into the dirt to pull itself upright. Seraph banished the disorientation he felt and straightened his helmet that was shaken loose. Something was off about this battle. He recalled that Reese was an exceptional pilot, but she paled in comparison to him. And where was Raven? His Geno Breaker was nowhere to be found. Was he killed in the satellite attack? If so, that would explain Reese's sudden ascension in talent. She felt something Raven; he couldn't see why, though. He was a violent, emotionally withdrawn machine. What could she have possibly seen in him?
"Not bad, Reese," Seraph patronized. "I knew you were a capable…"
A distorted video screen crackled into Seraph's view, and he stared into the cold, lifeless eyes of Raven. Reese it was definitely not.
"Reese is dead. You're fighting me now," Raven stated.
The words felt unnatural leaving his lips. It was an unsettling truth, but Seraph wouldn't provide words of comfort. Casualties happened, and if you weren't strong enough to overcome then, they'd handicap you.
"It is regrettable," Seraph said candidly. There was no emotion. "But you knew the risks when you pit yourselves against us. Her fate was sealed the moment she joined you in this foolish rebellion. It's the unavoidable truth."
"Then your fate is just as sealed," Raven patronized back, his tone like concrete. "It's the unavoidable truth."
The Psycho Geno Saurer sprang from its position, and Raven charged guns blazing. Seraph excused his Zoid from further damage. He went right, swinging around to the Geno's exposed flank as it sped by. The Energy Liger lit up the Geno Saurer's back with gunfire; Raven spun around to attack. A tail swing collided with empty air as Seraph evaded the would-be punishing attack. He shoved the Psycho Geno away, creating a bit of breathing room. Distance from Raven was his only chance for now. He focused on the Ultrasaurus; they had to capture the Chairman alive. As the Geno Saurer turned around for another go, the Energy Liger was already a few hundred yards from the base of the Ultrasaurus.
"You're not getting away from me!" Raven exclaimed, and he chased down the Energy Liger.
Stoller held his ground against the Mosasledge as its chainsaw tail sparked against the Elephander's energy sword. The former Backdraft captain leaned forward, pushing the controls with his fleeting strength. A reverberating hiss vented from the Mosasledge; it opened its torpedo launchers and fired one in the face of the Elephander.
Stoller was thrown back in his seat; the Zoid's green strip of a visor cracked, and segmented plates of armor on the trunk were stripped away. The Elephander collapsed back on its rear legs, and the Mosasledge took advantage. It rocketed itself into the air with its thrusters, swung its buzzing tail, and severed the Elephander's truck with grinding noise of shredded metal. The dismembered truck fell to the ground, laser sword fading before total deactivation. Sparks and gyrating volts of electricity sizzled at the end of the Elephander's stump of a truck. Stoller grimaced, his emerald visuals scrambling like white noise. His Zoid's instruments flickered as his central monitor assessed the damage—a severed truck, stressed joints on the rear legs, jammed tusks, and diminished ammo.
Suddenly, before Stoller could attempt to recover, the Mosasledge slapped its chainsaw against the cockpit and began cutting through it. The spinning blades carved the top of the Elephander's head and worked its way down. Stoller covered his face with his arms as the blades made contact with the emerald visor. The glass shattered, spraying into the cockpit and onto—and into—Stoller. He wailed in pain as the razor-like glass dug into his flesh and peppered his forearms. Micro shards resembling fine powder blew past his arms and stitched his face.
The chainsaw was steady cutting, now inching closer to the helpless pilot. Stoller tried to eject, but the blasted lever was jammed. He could feel the light breeze generating from the rotating blades, and the screeching sound murdered his ears. The Fuzor seemed to lean into it now, using its weight to help sever the touch reinforcement cage surrounding the cockpit. Stoller struggled to unbuckle his harness as the chainsaw's teeth began chipping away at the resilient metal.
Sparks rained down, dripping down onto Stoller's lap and burning through his clothing and skin. He screamed aloud, pinching his eyes shut as he turned his head away. Once the reinforcement bar was cut, it was a straight shot down and through the former captain. It would hurt like hell, but Stoller knew it would be agonizingly quick.
The menacing teeth of the chainsaw were abruptly stopped, and its tail snatched from the Elephander's cockpit with mechanical feline growl. Stoller daringly forced open his icy blue eyes: the Photo Zaber had aggressively snatched the Mosasledge away from the butchered Elephander, pinned it to the ground, and mercilessly began mauling it.
Yuri's voice, although riddled with static and distortion, blared through the weak comm system in the Elephander. "Stoller, get your butt back to the Hover Cargo! You can make it if you run!"
The veteran didn't ask questions. He freed himself from the harness, climbed through the chewed up metal, and jumped down from his defeated Zoid. His legs buckled the second he hit the ground, but the aging warrior pulled himself upright and ran through the battlefield. The wind stung his cuts on his face, and blood soaked through his sleeves where he'd been struck by the glass. He kept running, wanting so badly to turn around and look back—his training said otherwise, and his neck refused to turn. Stoller just hoped he could thank Yuri when this was over.
A stray round struck the ground in front of Stoller, creating a crater the size of a dinner plate. The former captain was soon engulfed in a shadow that dwarfed him. He looked up and immediately dove left, just as the Shadow Fox crashed into the ground. Stoller rolled away from the immense Zoid, crawled a few feet, and then took off running again. The Unenlagia leaped atop the Fox-type Zoid and aimed its dual AZ Handguns into its face. Irvine sprang into action, headbutting the Fuzor away before it could fire.
Brad caught his breath and eased his beating heart.
"Get up," Irvine told him. "It's coming back for more."
Brad grunted and did just so. The Unenlagia hissed at the two of them, unable to handle the combined strength of the Fox and Saix. It needed the others. Their opponents had wised up. In a blur, the Unenlagia made a mad dash for the Ultrasaurus. Irvine watched it run, finding its sudden retreat troubling. He liked it better when it was trying to kill him. The mercenary wouldn't complain, though; he needed the rest.
Brad, however, failed to share the same mindset. "We should go after it."
Irvine rolled his visible eye. "And why should we do that? I'm glad the thing's gone."
"I wouldn't run from a battle unless I had something up my sleeve," hypnotized Brad. "I'd rather not sit back and wait to see what it's up to. C'mon!"
The Shadow Fox raced away after the Unenlagia.
Irvine moaned to himself. Why did you wake me up, Van? The Lightning Saix was sprung into a swift sprint and caught up with the Fox.
They marked the Unenlagia running for the base of the Ultrasaurus and into the heart of the battle. The colossal Zoid looked worse up close than it did from a distance. It was miracle in itself that the Ultrasaurus was still standing. Brad raised his eyes skyward, watching as Jamie and Pierce steadily fought against the Nightwise and the Backdraft's Hammerhead. Easing his eyes down a taste, he noticed the Leoblaze running up the body of the Ultrasaurus with the Liger Zero hot on its heels.
Pulling up beside the Fox, Irvine brought the Saix to a skidding halt. He scratched the back of his sweaty head and exhaled. It seemed there was no end to this hell. Fighting was hard enough, but it was even more taxing when you had to protect the lives of others. Irvine's patience was withering. It took all he had not to throw his hands up and walk away. But Van—where ever he was—wouldn't quit, he wouldn't surrender; Irvine wouldn't falter. He plunged the Saix headlong into the fight, moving to defend the Ultrasaurus as Brad battled the Mosasledge with Yuri.
The window was closing for the Backdraft as the conflict dragged on. It couldn't go on like this; the Backdraft needed to make one final push. The Count was growing anxious. He couldn't stand watching it anymore. The Blitz Team and their allies had yet to be dealt with, and their persistence had prolonged a sure victory. Dr. Laon's Fuzor creations operated as advertised, but they too hadn't delivered the final blow. There was too much interference, too much snags.
The Count gripped the wall, feeling his stomach shift as the Hammerhead altered its course. He lips tightened with aggravation as the Fire Phoenix and Storm Sworder zipped past his quarters' window. Zabat fighters pursued them, subsequently being sliced from nose to tail by the Sworder's blades. They sparkled in brief shimmers of red-orange light, coughed out black smoke, and descended in pieces.
Pierce eyed her radar, pleased to see three red blips vanish from it. Two Zabats arced up along her starboard and port sides, their heads throbbing an eerie emerald as they closed in closer. Pierce swore under her breath and shoved the controls, dropping the Sworder into a swift dive. The Zabats detonated, flowing heavy vibrations through Pierce that she felt to her very bones. She stabilized the Storm Sworder, hearing sprinkles of debris from the suicide Zabats.
"That was new," she muttered to herself.
Her console screeched and flashed; Pierce grunted—she hated that sound.
It wasn't good, but she forced herself to look. The screen displayed the Sworder's right wing, indicating by a cautionary flash of red light—the wing was failing. Pierce turned and gazed out to view the wing: thin streams of smoke vented from small punctures that covered the wing like beestings. They breached the wing through and through.
Those Zabats were in close proximity when they self-destructed, so the damage was undoubtedly caused by them. This would be a problem, especially when it came to maneuverability. The Zoid was already pulling to the right, and Pierce had to tilt the controls to compensate. She wouldn't last long in a fight with an impaired Zoid, and Jamie would be on his own if she went down. He wouldn't be able to fight them alone, but in the event she had to ditch, he had to be prepared.
"Jamie, listen up. Can you hear me?"
"Give me a second," Jamie responded.
The Fire Phoenix shot down a pair of Zabats, spun around behind another, and slashed it in two with the Phoenix's claws.
"Go ahead, Pierce. What's up?"
Pierce glanced at her radar. Clear. "Zabats are trying something new. They must've been reconfigured to self-detonate now. A pair nearly took me out, so don't let them get close to you."
"Roger. Thanks for the head's up. Is that all?"
Pierce controlled her voice. She couldn't allow Jamie to think she was in distress; if he did, he would be risking life to keep her safe. "The Sworder took some damage. I'll do what I can to stay airborne, but I won't be much help to you. Sorry, Jamie."
There was a pause in the comm. Pierce waited for him to answer—if we would answer.
"You said the Zabats have changed their tactics, right?" Jamie finally replied.
"Yeah, that's right. They get in close and then self-destruct."
There was another pause.
"Pierce, I want you to ditch."
The former Backdraft pilot's brows ruffled. "What, no! I can still fight."
The Fire Phoenix pulled alongside the Storm Sworder, and Jamie's face appeared upon Pierce's central monitor. "The damage isn't too severe, but if you keep fighting—the speeds we travel and the maneuvers we have to make—the Storm Sworder will tear apart around you. By that time, you won't have time to eject before those Zabats close on you and take you out."
Jamie took a breath and checked his motion sensors—numerous blips were closing fast.
"But I've got an idea. Are you listening?" Pierce nodded. "I'm listening." "We've got hostiles closing aft. If possible, lead them straight into the Hammerhead's engines. But here's the catch—they'll need to be primed to blow, so they'll need to be close."
Pierce winced. "I don't know, Jamie. I can barely keep her level, and a maneuver like that would cripple the wing. Pulling up would be impossible."
"That's why you're doing to eject before that happens. It'll take some timing on your part, but if done correctly, the combined impact from the Zabats and the Sworder would ravage their engines. They'd have to make an emergency landing."
Pierce fell silent, finding Jamie's idea extremely reckless. If she didn't eject in time, there'd be killed along with the Zabats. The engines would be destroyed, yes, but it would come at a cost—her life. In addition to that, what if the Zabats caught up with her before she reached the engines? She would need to outrun them, something her Zoid was incapable to doing for an elongated time.
"There has to be another way, Jamie?"
Jamie sighed; the hostiles were getting closer. "There isn't. Trust me; I've been burning through ideas since we been up here. Look, we're running low on ammo. Neither of us can last much longer, including our Zoids. We have to at least try. They're coming fast, so what's it gonna be—yes or no?"
Pierce pulled up her rear camera: the Zabats were speeding towards them. She had to decide.
"We have to move, Pierce!" Jamie shouted. "Yes or no?"
The heads of the Zabat swarm glowed red and blink furiously. Pierce punched her console, swung the Sworder around, and accelerated for the Hammerhead. "Keep them off me until I give the word!"
Jamie sped after her, banking out left as the dozens of Zabats flowed in around them. A pair of them increased their velocity and lined up behind the Storm Sworder. Armed missiles rolled out from within their stout bodies, were released, and screamed parallel to one another as they targeted the Sworder.
Jamie practically leaped on the comm. "Pierce, incoming missiles!"
Pierce hit the key; flare countermeasures coughed from the Sworder's rear, burning a foggy red-orange hue as they blossomed in the air.
The missiles tracked the infrared flares, drifted from their intended target, and collided with the flares. Pierce bit her tongue as the explosion rattled through her body; she tasted blood in her mouth, ignored it, and accelerated. Bits of ignited metal tore from the damaged wing; the sound pinged in Pierce's earpiece, and she cringed as the wing deteriorated further.
"Just hold on a little longer," she whispered softly.
The Hammerhead was a few thousand meters away, but every hundred or so meters she covered, it seemed the Backdraft's flagship pulled away even farther. A dozen blips crowded her radar, but half of them disappeared as the Fire Phoenix across their path. Jamie still had her back. The cockpit shook again; Pierce's stomach shifted as her Storm Sworder tilted into a forty-five degree angle.
Pierce grimaced as it jerked the controls left, and the stress nearly snapped her wrists. She fought to stabilize the Zoid, feeling as if she tried to pull something three times her body weight.
Jamie spiraled over her and leveled out by the Sworder's side. "You're drifting off course."
Pierce strained to reply, her voice choked with stress. "Wing's failing!" She let out a grunt. "I'm trying to compensate but she won't stay level!"
"Hang on," Jamie exclaimed.
The tactical commander eased his altitude, just a few meters below the Storm Sworder. He nudged the head of the Fire Phoenix underneath the Sworder's wing, ascended a taste, and leveled out her Zoid. Pierce held the stress ease from her wrists, and the intense weight lightened. She toggled the controls more to the left, lifting the damaged wing from the Phoenix's head.
"Can you hold it?" Jamie asked her, his stomach tight.
"I think so," she nodded. "We have targets inbound. I'd say they gained fifty meters; they're closing the gap."
Jamie checked his aft camera. "I got 'em." He turned to face Pierce through the monitor, his eyes softening for a split-second. "Just keep her steady, okay. We're close."
Pierce nodded.
The screen went dark, and Jamie's eyes hardened again. He banked right, glided around to the Zabat swarm, and neutralized a dozen of them. A single one tried to latch onto the Phoenix's frame, but Jamie spun it off, accelerated, and watched it self-destruct behind him. He dismissed the pain in his broken pinky, pushing it far in the confines of his mind. The only thing that mattered was getting Pierce—and those Zabats—to the Backdraft's Hammerhead. He wouldn't fail.
Dr. Laon jogged into the Count's quarters, his forehead beading with sweat. His red tie hung loosely from his spiked collar to the point of coming undone. He had since removed his heavy outer coat, leaving it in a wrinkled heap somewhere below deck. The Count turned to look at him. He was man on the edge, exasperated from shouting orders and keeping systems online.
The Count could tell he was weak, but his eyes said otherwise. They were sharp and attentive, having an eagerness about them. He was ready for more. "You asked for me?" Laon put to the Count, agitated that he was pulled away from his duties. His subordinates still needed his help, and so did the vessel they were aboard. Fires still burned on the lower decks, soldiers and personnel were injured, and some areas needed to be blocked off.
The Count went over to his desk and poured a glass of dark liquor over a trio of square ice cubes. He hefted the glass and walked across the room to hand it to Laon. The scientist took the glass, finding the Count's temperament extremely unsettling. Chaos was abundant, but he appeared impervious to it. Laon envied that trait.
"Come." The Count gestured to one of the awkwardly positioned luxury chairs. "Have a seat. You've been working awfully hard."
Dr. Laon sucked down the drink in a single gulp, and his face failed to grimace from the liquor's sharpness. He set the glass down on one of the numerous glass-topped end tables and cleared his throat.
"I thank you for your hospitality, but I don't have the luxury of taking a break. I have many obligations that need my undivided attention. However, if you have something prudent to discuss, I have a moment."
The Count walked over to his observation window and gazed out of it. He took a sip of his drink. "Our enemies still remain. Are you positive your Fuzors are capable of finishing this?"
Dr. Laon sighed. "They were never properly tested before now, but I have the upmost confidence that they will succeed. When the time is right, they'll unleash their full potential."
"Then let us hope that time is coming," the Count sharply replied.
Dr. Laon didn't reply to his comment. He knew what his Zoids are capable but—whether or not they displayed it—couldn't help but agree with his superior. The Zoids scientist helped himself to another drink to take the edge off. What did the Count expect – a quick scuffle ending in victory? No government would just sit back and allow a rebel faction overtake them without a fight. Laon nearly laughed; he never expected the Count to be so naïve.
The intercom suddenly blared open in a symphony of static and background chatter. A male voice poured the speakers, his tone saturated in stress.
"Pardon the interruption, sir, but we have hostiles approaching. Seeking cover is advised."
Dr. Laon set down his drink. "Bring up the starboard camera. I want to take a look."
"Yes, sir."
The 50" dark monitor lit up, relaying a visual from the vessel's starboard camera. It panned the devastated city of burning buildings and mountains of smoldering rubble, inched up a couple of degrees, and centered on a pack of a dozen swarming Zabat fighters pursuing the Fire Phoenix and a Storm Sworder.
Dr. Laon went over to the window and squinted his eyes. "What on Zi are they doing?"
Jamie clutched a Zabat in the Phoenix's claws, built up momentum, and threw it into an incoming missile. He darted left, gunned down another two, and checked his ammo readout—126 shots left before the pulse laser battery died. A grunt imitated from his throat; he switched to the single-shot alternate and aimed down his sights carefully. A Zabat passed his field of vision. He aimed ahead of the Zoid, held his breath, and pulled the trigger on his controls three times.
The first shot grazed the Zabat's head, sparking lightly as it removed a brush of pain; the second and third, however, hit dead center. Its wings crumbled like wet tissue, the body ignited, and the Zoid was vaporized in a fireball. Jamie exhaled, feeling his muscles ache and burn from the lactic acid build up. Cramps were beginning to intensify, and he began losing feeling in his hands. The Backdraft's Hammerhead was growing closer, and its engines glowed in Jamie's grey eyes. They were close now.
"Pierce, this is it. Get ready!"
Pierce tightened her harness and tested the ejection lever underneath her seat; it didn't budge, but she chalked it up to her fading strength. When the time came, however, she'd need what she had left to get out. Jamie was beginning to pull away in her aft cameras, allowing the Zabats to target her and her only. Their drone-operated systems locked the Storm Sworder in, registered it as an imminent, and set their reconfigured systems to self-detonation upon reaching the allotted distance.
They increased their acceleration, burning everything they had to catch up to the swift Sworder. Pierce's radar was overloaded with enemy blips, and the distance between them had drawn within thirty meters. Any closer and they'd blow. Jamie nervously observed the plan unfold, feeling helpless as Pierce was on her own. There was nothing much more he could do. He'd protected her up until now, so it was up to her to finish the job.
Sections of the Hammerhead's hull parted open like elevator as twin barrels protruded from its stern. Thunderous anti-air rounds exploded from the wide mouthed barrels and were hurled into the air at damaging speeds. Pierce held her course with boldness as she watched the red-hot slugs roar past her with a high-pitched whistle.
The Zabats drew closer—twenty meters, fifteen, then ten. Pierce tightened her fists around the controls; her heart beat furiously as the adrenaline coursed through her body. The flagship's engines took up her entire view screen.
Jamie's voice blasted through Pierce's comm. "Now—eject!"
Pierce yanked the lever; nothing happened. She pulled it again, but the stupid thing was jammed.
"Come on!" Pierce shouted, pulling frantically. "Come on!"
The heat of the engines began melting away the Sworder's armor, and the Zabats had crowded around her with glowing heads.
Jamie's eyes expanded and his mouth fell open. "Pull it, Pierce! What are you doing!?"
A siren wailed within the Storm Sworder's cockpit and flashed a warning on the center screen that a collision was imminent—the pilot had ten seconds to eject. Pierce jerked at the lever with tears in her eyes, screaming abusively at the malfunctioning Zoid.
Five seconds.
She made a fist around the lever one more time and leaned into it, funneling every ounce of strength she had left.
Three seconds.
Pierce snatched up the lever with a boisterous scream; her arm cracked. The lever—at last—yielded. The cockpit canopy snapped open and jettisoned Pierce into the air.
Time elapsed.
The Storm Sworder and the Zabats slammed into the main engines of the Hammerhead, exploding aggressively as the Zoids piled up on each other.
Pierce laughed victoriously as the Backdraft's flagship lazily spun through the air like a horizontal Ferris wheel. She'd broken her arm in the effort to release the lever, but the pain failed to measure up to her elation. The Hammerhead steadily descended over the city, smashed through, smashing through a lopsided skyscraper as it crashed out of Pierce's sight behind the city with a rumbling quake.
The skyline was clear.
