Black Feather: Episode XXXVII
"Bloodshed"
Ascalon Citadel Abandoned Business Block AC-BB/-09
7:21 a.m., 03/21
"They're coming."
"Yeah, I know. The ground's shaking..." My quadripedal AC could sense vibrations in the ground like a seismograph. Scout was tense, but then again, anyone would be. The two of us against an entire strike force...
We were taking cover in an abandoned business block of the citadel. The broken glass and cement gravel clicked and bobbed on the pavement. They're getting closer...
"Is this why Lucifer sent us here? To take out all of them by ourselves?"
"We should trust him. Besides, he said so, didn't he-"
The buildings we were hiding up against shattered in a cloud of fire. A volley of missiles thrashed the adjacent structures. A second later, the roads were littered with debris...
"Scout, I'll go right. You take the left!" Scout responded and boosted through the left street. I looked on, not knowing if I'll ever see her again.
"You be careful, Markham!" I told her I will and branched right.
I went straight through an intersection, where a hail of bullets barely missed me. I lifted up over the rooftops, expecting to see a cloud of airborne fliers. I was right. I dropped and found a battle MT right in front of me, the type with twin chain guns and a missile launcher. Immediately, I thrusted my bazooka in its face and pulled the trigger. Taking advantage of the ensuing flames, I strafe boosted to my right, only to find five more in its wake. They all fired their peashooters right at me. Some bounced off my armor, while most missed as I jumped into the air. I took out two with my bazooka and another with my spread howitzer. I landed and found yet another in my face, but soon exploded before I could pull the trigger. Another MT behind it had fired and unexpectedly killed its own comrade. I fired through all the smoke in front of me and picked off the last one.
Small, mobile MTs loomed behind me. They fired as I turned around. Seven shells hit as I braced for impact. My heat built up quickly and I jumped in the air again to cool off more. I feather-boosted from above and shot down four MTs with my missiles. Three more shells jarred my AC, but the next impact sent me twisting to the ground. An unfortunate fighter jet flew right into me, knocking me off balance and sailing down with my core and arm armor shredded. The fighter jet was torn and its debris littered the pavement. I landed on my right arm and my bazooka spun from my grip.
WARNING: RIGHT SHOULDER JOINT ACTUATOR DAMAGED. RIGHT ARM RESPONSE DECREASED TO 12%. SUB-ENGINE RAS-SE/02 OFF-LINE. LEAK DETECTED. RIGHT EXTENSION OFF-LINE.
I juggled the controls, scrambling to my four feet again. I lurched forward. The cockpit was suddenly an oven. Cannon MTs were behind me.
"Markham!" Scout appeared overhead from one of the buildings.
"Scout! NO!" She was tossed against a building when six grenade shells clashed with her right side. "SCOUT!!!" More MTs and air fighters came, cocking their artillery and threatening to kill if I make a wrong move. Scout, after painting a horrid dent in one of the buildings, lied on the sidewalk, her right arm and leg was completely blown off and most of her armor was ripped apart. Sparks and electricity cackled all around her AC. I never felt so helpless in my life. The only thing left to do was to drop all of my weapons.
That is, until a blinding flash ensued. I released the controls and buried my eyes in my arms, but even then, the light was too bright. A thousand explosions went off all at once. The light subsided and I found myself shielding my ears. I could feel my eardrum vibrating rapidly, which soon turned to immense pain. The internal noise filter activated, but only mitigated the pain. The explosions silenced exactly like the light had. I withdrew my hands, moist with blood from my ears. They rung like possessed bells and I could hear little of anything else. My first instinct was to get out of my AC.
Piles and piles of smoldering and burning debris decorated the block. All of which had fresh, straight, slice marks outlined with molten bubbles of metal. But what caught my eye was a vibrant blue AC in the air. Four cannons danced frozen in the air behind it, while two dual cannons hung from its back. Two dual laserblades from its arms retracted. All of its cannons faded away and turned into a chain gun and rail gun. Its arms emaciated into lightweight types, carrying a laserblade and a rifle. Its shadowy glow receded, descended, and it knelt to the ground.
Scout limped her way toward me from her AC. She was badly hurt and her right arm was moderately burned. I ran over and helped her move. We made our way to the back of the AC. Now, I remembered. It was the same AC from the mission two days ago. The cockpit shutters opened all at once and the pilot fell out. I inspected his body.
He had a bullet wound in his left chest.
"Bloodshed"
Ascalon Citadel Abandoned Business Block AC-BB/-09
7:21 a.m., 03/21
"They're coming."
"Yeah, I know. The ground's shaking..." My quadripedal AC could sense vibrations in the ground like a seismograph. Scout was tense, but then again, anyone would be. The two of us against an entire strike force...
We were taking cover in an abandoned business block of the citadel. The broken glass and cement gravel clicked and bobbed on the pavement. They're getting closer...
"Is this why Lucifer sent us here? To take out all of them by ourselves?"
"We should trust him. Besides, he said so, didn't he-"
The buildings we were hiding up against shattered in a cloud of fire. A volley of missiles thrashed the adjacent structures. A second later, the roads were littered with debris...
"Scout, I'll go right. You take the left!" Scout responded and boosted through the left street. I looked on, not knowing if I'll ever see her again.
"You be careful, Markham!" I told her I will and branched right.
I went straight through an intersection, where a hail of bullets barely missed me. I lifted up over the rooftops, expecting to see a cloud of airborne fliers. I was right. I dropped and found a battle MT right in front of me, the type with twin chain guns and a missile launcher. Immediately, I thrusted my bazooka in its face and pulled the trigger. Taking advantage of the ensuing flames, I strafe boosted to my right, only to find five more in its wake. They all fired their peashooters right at me. Some bounced off my armor, while most missed as I jumped into the air. I took out two with my bazooka and another with my spread howitzer. I landed and found yet another in my face, but soon exploded before I could pull the trigger. Another MT behind it had fired and unexpectedly killed its own comrade. I fired through all the smoke in front of me and picked off the last one.
Small, mobile MTs loomed behind me. They fired as I turned around. Seven shells hit as I braced for impact. My heat built up quickly and I jumped in the air again to cool off more. I feather-boosted from above and shot down four MTs with my missiles. Three more shells jarred my AC, but the next impact sent me twisting to the ground. An unfortunate fighter jet flew right into me, knocking me off balance and sailing down with my core and arm armor shredded. The fighter jet was torn and its debris littered the pavement. I landed on my right arm and my bazooka spun from my grip.
WARNING: RIGHT SHOULDER JOINT ACTUATOR DAMAGED. RIGHT ARM RESPONSE DECREASED TO 12%. SUB-ENGINE RAS-SE/02 OFF-LINE. LEAK DETECTED. RIGHT EXTENSION OFF-LINE.
I juggled the controls, scrambling to my four feet again. I lurched forward. The cockpit was suddenly an oven. Cannon MTs were behind me.
"Markham!" Scout appeared overhead from one of the buildings.
"Scout! NO!" She was tossed against a building when six grenade shells clashed with her right side. "SCOUT!!!" More MTs and air fighters came, cocking their artillery and threatening to kill if I make a wrong move. Scout, after painting a horrid dent in one of the buildings, lied on the sidewalk, her right arm and leg was completely blown off and most of her armor was ripped apart. Sparks and electricity cackled all around her AC. I never felt so helpless in my life. The only thing left to do was to drop all of my weapons.
That is, until a blinding flash ensued. I released the controls and buried my eyes in my arms, but even then, the light was too bright. A thousand explosions went off all at once. The light subsided and I found myself shielding my ears. I could feel my eardrum vibrating rapidly, which soon turned to immense pain. The internal noise filter activated, but only mitigated the pain. The explosions silenced exactly like the light had. I withdrew my hands, moist with blood from my ears. They rung like possessed bells and I could hear little of anything else. My first instinct was to get out of my AC.
Piles and piles of smoldering and burning debris decorated the block. All of which had fresh, straight, slice marks outlined with molten bubbles of metal. But what caught my eye was a vibrant blue AC in the air. Four cannons danced frozen in the air behind it, while two dual cannons hung from its back. Two dual laserblades from its arms retracted. All of its cannons faded away and turned into a chain gun and rail gun. Its arms emaciated into lightweight types, carrying a laserblade and a rifle. Its shadowy glow receded, descended, and it knelt to the ground.
Scout limped her way toward me from her AC. She was badly hurt and her right arm was moderately burned. I ran over and helped her move. We made our way to the back of the AC. Now, I remembered. It was the same AC from the mission two days ago. The cockpit shutters opened all at once and the pilot fell out. I inspected his body.
He had a bullet wound in his left chest.