Alternate Reality
Chapter 12: "Clean up, clean up, everybody do your share."
Location: New Mombasa ruins, Africa, Kenya.
Date/time: 2553/3073 Mar 12th 20:32 GST
"Where are you Charlie?" Specter demanded, his heart pounding as he dove into another side alley; plasma bolts and spike rounds impaling the wall. He rolled carefully and quietly into the frame of a kicked down door and breathed easy; leveling his modified laser pistol. His eyes scanned the area inside his limited view; as far as he could tell they had moved on.
Specter would have cursed loudly in any other battle zone; except he wasn't in his mech, but wore a black leather jacket and cap... civilian clothes.
I'm just lucky I brought my sidearm.
It was dark, and heavy rain pelted the streets and the roof above his head. The neon signs for various places, and flat screens still projected their messages with weak light that cast a dreary mood to the fight.
Specter had only taken one step when he heard a beast like howl half a block behind him; his dark clothing helped him blend with the dark, but his unfortunately strong human smell had alerted them of his presence. A Brute glared in his direction, his blue armor and spiked helmet marking him as a minor.
And he thinks I smell? Specter thought; raising the pistol to eye level, his finger depressed the trigger and sent a red beam of energy into the beast's face and melted through the helmet. The Brute fell instantly, still semi alive, but doomed to death with a missing part of his already limited brain.
Specter's current mission was to find his PDA; he had dropped it when he ran for cover, and that had been several blocks to the north. He was pretty sure that they would be hired to help fight off the Brutes, so the PDA was his contact his base, and he needed that.
He slunk his way through several alleyways before he found it blocked off in the direction he wanted; this caused him to climb the wall and crawl on the roof; he didn't care about his clothes or the rain, only that he live and complete his self appointed mission. The square where he dropped the PDA was just ahead; but there were about fifteen problems with his plan: five brutes and ten grunts.
Specter knew that as soon as he fired, his location would be known, and he would be swarmed.
"Cut off the head..." Specter whispered, aiming as best as he could for the head or body of the golden armored Brute that stood in the center to order the others with harsh barks of speech.
His red beam had been set to pulse; allowing his laser to fire a continuous beam for several quick seconds. His beam helped act as a tracer because when he stopped firing; the head of the leader rolled to the ground and commotion resounded. Several brutes charged his location in a berserk dash, several ran to check the dead leader, and all the grunts ran around wailing.
Specter's pistol cooled down in time for him to burn the brains out of the closest Brute before having to run and jump from his roof top onto the next building.
I'm not conditioned for this kind of fighting. Specter thought as he breathed quick and hard, and as he slid down the broken ceiling of the next building and into a small store.
One Brute stumbled in after him, and slid onto his face with a growl, glare snapped up to Specter, and he would have gored him had he not been lasered between the eyes. Specter relaxed; they thought he was a civilian, and probably thought he kept running. That was his main reason for staying in the room to hide under and behind some debris. The secondary reason was that his heart and breathing were way too fast.
"...you go check it out..." Specter heard a brute grab one of the grunts and watched as the horrified grunt fell on its rear onto the floor of the room.
"...I no see him..." The grunt answered in a wavering tone.
Of course they weren't speaking English, Specter had acquired a translating device from the Office of Naval Intelligence.
When the patience of the brutes grew weary, two of the beasts jumped into the room with their guns raised. No one saw him, and the old and stale smell of human was being washed away by the rain.
"...no humans here..."
"...see master?"
Specter wasted no time, as soon as they turned to leave, he crawled from his hiding spot and fired his pistol in three quick bursts; one in the back of the head of each alien: they all slumped to the ground.
That's four, and one; leaves one and nine.
Specter climbed back up the debris and onto the roof of the partially collapsed building, from there he could barely see the square between two buildings. Another drop ship flew to the ground, its belly glowed purple as its gravity lift activated and dropped eight more grunts to the ground, several alien barriers, and two Ghost scout vehicles.
It just gets worse and worse.
Specter knew his pistol was powerful, its only drawback was its concentrated beam. So without a second to lose he switched to pulse and fired a three second beam into what looked like a fuel or coolant tank on the underbelly of the ship as dropped its occupants. The beam quickly cut in and ignited fuel and released plasma into the air; the resulting explosion showering the miniature LZ in shrapnel.
His location was forgotten as the last remaining Brute was crushed by debris, along with several grunts. The rest ran and hid behind their barriers and forsook their Ghosts. Specter saw this as his chance and slid down the sloping roof to the street. With quick sprinting steps he dashed into the square; his slide into the square was complimented with several bursts of his pistol and downed four more of the shorter aliens.
When his momentum slowed and he was about to stop; Specter rolled forward to where his PDA was lying near a dead grunt. He rolled again, and picked up the PDA in the process, and when he rolled to his feet he shot the two grunts before him and dashed into the closest alley.
"...what that?"
"...killed my friend..."
"...I kill you human..."
The quick patter, or shuffle, of alien feet met his ears. A trio of grunts, followed closely by four more, ran past where he hid behind a garbage canister. They slowed as their panicked lungs needed air and turned with horror when Specter appeared behind them; announcing his presence with three bursts of his pistol.
In all he killed four, one of his bursts hit the methane tank of a grunt and exploded in a crack of light. The last grunts yelled and primed grenades in their hands.
Oh... Specter dove back to the square and rolled to cover behind the nearest building's wall. The explosion of three plasma grenades demolished have of the buildings that bordered the alley and the heat cleansed it of bodies and filth.
"He dead?" One of the survivors asked another.
"He ran..."
Specter rolled into view of the alley, but when he pulled his trigger, nothing happened.
"Crap!" Specter dove back toward where a forsaken Ghost was parked behind the barriers. He jumped into the uncomfortable seat and grabbed the two joystick like controls and activated about every thing he could. He finally, after about twelve seconds, managed to start the Ghost and figured how to move it by moving the joysticks. He overpowered the Ghost's engines and, not knowing or having the time to figure out how to use its cannons, Specter plowed the Ghost into the emerging trio of Grunts.
Florescent blue blood spattered the Ghost and Specter when he plowed to a halt roughly into the wall, throwing Specter into the wall and to the ground. He groaned and brought his PDA to his eyes and typed in a message to Beowulf.
"Any contracts?" It was a simple note, but the reply was not so.
"No, the UNSC has not the time to provide any contracts, they only ask that we join in their fight. Where are you? If you need to be picked up Hannibal and I are prepped for a scout run."
"I'll be there soon, go heavy not light, and prep my Templar for me." Specter pocketed his PDA, not even waiting for an answer. His ship was outside of town about two miles into the hills. He picked himself up and sat more easily into the seat of his captured Ghost. This time he was able to work with it in the alley for about fifteen minutes until he was comfortable with its controls.
When he was ready, he sped through the alley and back onto the street, his ride would be without contacts as all the enemies in his area were moving back to investigate the destroyed LZ.
He arrived about ten minutes later at his ship. The bay doors were open, and even though he received an odd look from the techs when he zipped in; they didn't pester him... as usual.
"You, come over here," Specter ordered the nearest tech. "Take apart this machine and see if there's anything we could use to upgrade our systems... you're into old and alien tech right?"
The technician just nodded and went over to procure some tools. It was about this time that Specter looked up to see Beowulf waving from his captured Mad dog, aka Vulture. The mech had a long and all body that somehow resembled the head of a large bird. It had two missile racks on either side of its cockpit and two small unassuming arms connected to them. There was also a handy "chin gun" hard point that could be outfitted with any weapon system of comparable size.
Hannibal was not the type of person to go for a large amount of missiles; his Thor, a humanoid mech with a rounded missile rack next to its offset cockpit and two good sized arms capable of holding all heavy weapon available.
Specter's Templar was a new design brought in by Davion's finest engineers; probably a fit member of his new mechs like the Victor; named after the revolutionary leader Victor Steiner-Davion.
His Templar was actually an assualt class mech: it weighed into the eighty-through-one hundred tonnage range. He always had loved Gauss rifles: this mech was capable of holding a good amount. He had stripped it of almost all its heat sinks and had fitted the mech with two Clan Gauss rifles as they were as powerful as conventional tech but a good bit lighter. Then he added what the clanners hadn't made, an extra light-Gauss rifle. The light Gauss was smaller and lighter than Gauss rifles and dealt a decent amount of damage... and with an unbeatable range of twelve hundred meters it made a great sniping tool.
Specter ran to the side and climbed up the ladder to the catwalk that provided his entrance to his cockpit. His hurried motions and quick commands to the computer brought his mech online in seconds... his cooling vest slightly crooked and his nuerohelmet loose.
His Templar rose to a comfortable stance as it came under the control of his mind, the myomer muscles of its parts calibrating and stretching.
"Where are they?" Specter asked Castle through his comm, ignoring the computerized voice that listed the condition of all his mech's parts.
"I'm uploading your first Nav point sir, there seems to be a large contingent of vehicles and infantry on a wide road just a kilometer away." Castle replied, her comm had feedback as though she was still trying to position it.
"Specter lance what's you status?"
"Ready op." Beowulf chuckled darkly. "You want to squish some bugs?"
"Hannibal?"
"I'm green." He replied, his deeper voice was light and cheerful.
Specter began to march his Templar through the bay doors when he was stopped by the voice of someone else coming online.
"You can not be serious going into a battle without me." Falcon declared, she piloted a tall Mad Cat mark II, basically a taller and more heavily armored version of the Vulture.
"Castle, are there any more last minute sign ups?" Specter asked with mock annoyance.
"There are volunteers..."
"I do need someone to watch after the ship." Specter reasoned. "Falcon are you ready op?"
"Aff sir." She nudged the throttle and stalked out the door of the ship; her agitated movements showed she had been away from a mech for too long.
I guess it's what she lives for...
"Falcon, I'll take point." Specter brushed past her, and rounded the corner of the nearest building. From where he was he could tell that the contingent of troops were perpendicular to them on the street two blocks down. "So Castle, that's a kilometer?" Specter teased when a stray beam of purple energy burned a hole into his armor.
"I said about." She replied, obviously annoyed.
Specter sped up to about fifty kilometer per hour and toggled his zoom. He was in range for all three Gauss rifles and he sighted on the nearest moving Wraith tank. The bulbous vehicle turned to face him and began to glow blue; but Specter had fired a split second before him and crushed the vehicle with the Gauss slug. There were several brutes who dove away from the explosion, only to be picked off by Falcon's pulse lasers.
"It seems we've reached the end of the contingent, let's move in on their flank." Specter ordered. "Falcon, you and Hannibal tank the left side of the street while Beowulf and I take the right."
He had a chorus of 'yes sirs' and one 'Aff', and sped up to seventy kilometers. The tail end of this part of the contingent had three Shadow troop transports. And as soon as he saw them, he toggled his zoom and fired his Gauss rifles, one for each. Specter knew it would take about six to eight seconds for his Gauss rifles to recycle so he pulled slightly back and allowed Beowulf to pull ahead and fire his SRMs into the groups of startled infantry; miniature explosions threw them into the air and into the buildings.
Beowulf didn't cheer, he only stalked the street and peered into the corners like a hawk: his mech looked exactly like some ferocious alien bird of prey hunting for carrion. Beowulf was satisfied after a few moments of searching and followed after Specter as he ploughed his Templar through the rubble.
"There's something exciting about piloting a thirteen meter vehicle." Specter stated, his hand twitching eagerly on his joystick; his thumb dangerously close to the red alpha strike button.
They continued down the street, the sounds of all kinds of gunfire hailed their ears as they saw Hannibal and Falcon had caught up with the rest of the contingent.
"Things are hot here sir!" Hannibal stated in a worried voice; his blackened Thor was walking with a slight limp and several bundles of his right leg's myomer were splayed out like snapped muscle. His Thor's right arm extended, it reached forward and a blue crackle of light from his particle projector cannon struck a nearby chopper and incinerated most of it in a flash of blue light.
"Here comes the cavalry." Specter reminded, his shoulder mounted light-Gauss rifle spat out it deadly cargo; the slug flew with a miniature boom and pierced through a large set of barricades. Specter's short lived triumph paled as he saw three Phantom drop ships and one large red dot appear on his radar.
I wish we had reinforcements.
Specter turned to the lead drop ship; it held a Wraith mortar tank on its underbelly. His light-Gauss still had five seconds to recycle so Specter toggled his clan Gauss and fired the slug at the nose of the ship. The slug crushed in the nose, mangling the vehicle, but only slowed it. Specter fired his last ready Gauss rifle into the crushed nose of the leading Phantom and pierced a hole from stem to stern; causing the ship to explode in a blast of blue plasma.
"Guys..." Specter cautioned. His light Gauss rifle charged; he leveled his sights on the side of the second, descending ship, and fired. This was, as he figured, their sweet spot. A weaker place where he could hit their vitals. The slug smashed the fuel, coolant, or whatever it was that Specter had no idea what, and demolished the ship while it had just begun to regurgitate its men.
"Fire on that last Phantom!" Specter yelled, his weapons recycling and his mech's arms waving in an agitated manner.
The three focused their fire on the ship, in seconds in fell to the rain of power.
"Sir, is the ground shaking for you as well?" Falcon asked, her voice was actually sounding nervous... and she never sounded nervous, especially when she piloted a mech.
"Sir incoming enemy contacts! They're Word of Blake!" Beowulf declared, his sights were watching a trio of assault class mechs crush the remaining aliens. One an Atlas, a tall humanoid and imposing figure of raw power, another a stalking Daishi, the most powerful Clan assault mech in existence, and another a hulking Fafnir, capable of loading a duo of the heaviest mech class Gauss rifles ever made. A three had the red, blood-stained hand insignia imprinted on their chassis and stalked toward Specter's lance.
"I am the Preceptor who has been dogging you mercenary... and now it is time for us to cleanse this world of those who would defile the home of Humanity. After we have cleaned this world you and I shall have a duel, one that even a Clanner would respect; a Trial of Possession. You have no choice to agree, either you help us and fight me later, or you fight me now." The Preceptor had a snide tone, one that made Specter want to cringe at its ugly pride.
"You leave me no choice then." Specter replied, as much as he wanted the help... he zoomed in on the face of the Preceptor's Atlas and fired his alpha strike... Three Gauss rifle slugs crushed the cockpit of the mech and sent it careening to the ground. "I guess I'll fight now."
You wondering how they got back? So am I... well not really. All will be revealed to you in time... you excited to see an intense and slightly even matched battle? Well, please review because you really have no excuse. So thank you for reading and for reviewing, for those of you who do. I hope and plan to update soon.
-Tremble Wolf