Frontline
They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. They're wrong, either that, or I'm just an exception. I only relived the past ten minutes as the blue AC known as FlashTactic thrust its laser blade through my AC's core, just inches above my head.
The last ten minutes that I had seen was a battle. I had taken the mission of eliminating a Mirage research team for Crest, FlashTactic wasn't in the briefing. There had, in fact, been no such research team. When I arrived there had only been the AC. As soon as I landed, he rushed me. The mission was a trap.
My AC computer gave me various warnings as I hit the boosters in reverse, firing my machine gun at the oncoming enemy. "Analysis complete. The pilot of the AC is known as Enigma. The AC, FlashTactic, is equipped with a laser blade, a sniper rifle, and a chain gun. Evasive tactics advised." The pilot name the computer provided didn't reassure me. Enigma was the top officer of Mirage's exclusive AC force.
I could judge, visually, that the AC was built for speed. This was made apparent by the lightweight core and small arms on its small legs. He also had all ranges covered, smart pilot.
I dashed behind a boulder as a shot from his rifle flew past me on the left side. I switched to my AC's dual vertical missiles as I looked at the radar. The blip that represented him was about three meters behind me. I turned around to face him on the opposite side of the boulder, allowing my FCS to lock the missiles on the AC. My boosters thrust me backward as I launched a volley of missiles at him.
Astonishingly, he cut through the rock that divided us and dashed at me, out of danger from my attack. Left in shock, my missile pods are shot off by his sniper rifle. I opened fire with my machine gun as he advanced, most bullets missing their mark. He sliced off my machine gun arm, leaving my with my energy shield. I boosted backwards again, enabling the shield as he opened fire with the chain gun. I blocked maybe three shots before my AC ran out of energy, disabling the shield. A rain of bullets removed my AC's left arm and messed up the legs' basic functions. A bullet from his rifle went through my AC's head, rendering it completely useless. Luckily, his chain gun made a hole in the cockpit so I still had a visual of him. My AC's energy was finally replenished as he rushed at me, his laser blade in front of him. It jabbed through the core, just inches above my head.
The effects of the flashback wore off quickly. What seemed like minutes was only milliseconds. The blade was still above my head. I stared out of the hole his gun had made. I saw the AC's Grim Reaper emblem, too close for comfort. I tried hitting the boosters instinctively but his blade had cut the power to them. He slowly started withdrawing the weapon from my cockpit when an idea went through my skull. I didn't have time to second guess. I punched the EO button, releasing the orbit pod. In seconds, his core had been shot full of holes by a storm of lasers.
I watched through the hole as the AC staggered backwards and finally fell over, landing with a thud. I opened the cockpit, grabbing my own personal M16, in case, by some bizarre series of events, the pilot had lived. I climbed down the immobile legs of my AC and walked to the fallen FlashTactic. I looked into the open core to find what looked like oil splattered all over the cockpit. In the middle of the black ooze was a metallic being, or what was left of one anyway. I stepped back from the fallen AC, shocked. All this time I thought I was fighting a real person; the enemy pilot had been a robot. That explains the perfect performance, I thought. I pulled my phone out of my vest and dialed the Raven's Ark.
"Hello?"
"This is Garret, I need a transport to come pick me up. Send a large one; I got some scraps I wanna use from this mission."
"But the mission briefing says there were only research MTs. You can't use parts from those on an AC."
"The briefing was wrong. I'll explain when I get back."
"OK. The transport's on its way."
I hung up and leaned on FlashTactic's leg, lighting a cigarette.
