3
CHAPTER 3 – DERELICTION OF DUTY
Squad 19 continued their long hike up the mountain range in silence. They kept low to the ground, using the plentiful overgrowth and rock formations to their advantage. Their trek from the Aurora Square had gone well enough; no enemy platoons nor fellow cadet squadrons had impeded their way, their only hindrance being the increasingly ravaged streets. After ten minutes, they'd come to a stone bridge arching over a raging waterway. It was one of roughly a dozen extending from the city to the mountains. Bodies of Dollet and Galbadian soldiers lay strewn about, with large chunks of stone upended from the architecture. The three had steadily slunk across, and started up on the other side.
The rough, uneven terrain beneath Squall's feet slowed their climb to a drudging pace. An easier alternative did exist: rock stairs carved into the mountains branched off all across the range. They'd forgone the clearly defined trail in exchange for additional cover. Every bit would be of use in maintaining their element of surprise. Whether by Galbadia or SeeD, they couldn't afford to be discovered before reaching the top.
They surmounted boulders. They sliced their way through tangled weeds. They stumbled and fell to their knees over and over as they fought against the upward incline. It took Squall's breath away; even the most intensive cardio exercises at the Garden couldn't compare. More than once he considered returning to their post, that he might salvage his chance of passing the exam.
We're more than halfway up, and I'm thinking of going all the way back down?
Begrudgingly, he continued the climb. What little attention he could afford to spare fell to pondering Galbadia's motive; what need was there to waste so much manpower on capturing an obsolete facility? With the abrupt end of the so-called Sorceress War 17 years prior, a strange radio interference had swept across the airwaves. White noise plagued every frequency, rendering wireless communication nearly impossible overnight; burst transmission across short distances remained viable, albeit with significantly garbled output. Thus began a long transitional period in the realm of communications technology. Over the years, the world's nations worked to develop an effective alternative: an underground network of hyper-digital cables running from point to point on a global scale. With the network still in its infancy, many parts of the world still had no means of communication besides old-fashioned mail delivery.
The thicket of high grass thinned as they neared the peak. A small assortment of rocks were now all that stood in their way. The rusted synthetic tower already loomed high above them, gleaming in the setting sun. Gunfire still sporadically erupted from the neighboring bluffs; Galbadia's forces had done all they could to lure SeeD further along the mountain range, away from the facility, inadvertently opening the way for Squad 19's advance.
Squall finally reached the top to stand beside Seifer. A precarious drop led down to the trail below, itself on a precipice overlooking the communications tower entrance. The decimated corpses of at least a dozen Dollet soldiers littered the terrain. Their bodies were unnaturally contorted, strewn about without regard. The odd Galbadian casualty lay among the mass grave, numbering less than a quarter total.
"Geez!" Zell moaned, bringing up the rear. "If I ever have to climb over one more friggin' boulder, I'm gonna-"
He cut himself short as he reached their side and looked down.
"Uh… never mind."
"The coast looks clear," Squall observed. "Strange there's no guards."
"They're probably further back down the trail," Zell said. "Pretty sure I saw a couple on the way up. There's bound to be more inside."
"Then let's move in," Seifer commanded. He crouched down and slipped his legs over the cliff face.
"Man, why'd I have to use my cable to tie those guys up?"
Squall followed, carefully searching for a foothold. He'd made regular use of the rock climbing wall in the Garden's physical fitness center over the years. This should have been no more daunting, and yet the absence of a safety harness still unnerved him. Fortunately, he'd spent the last several months practicing a method of GF control to break his fall.
He touched down on the desecrated trail. The soldiers' dried blood stained the surrounding rocks a dark crimson. A rotting scent had mustered amid the slaughter; the bodies must have been lying there for at least half a day already. Now up close, it was clear the platoon had been disposed of by far more gruesome means than a firefight. The scattered corpses looked as if they'd been ravaged by a rampaging beast, several missing whole limbs. Massive wedge-shaped divots sunk into the trail, resembling footprints unlike any Squall had ever seen.
"This looks too brutal to be the work of soldiers," he commented.
"We're pretty high up," Seifer said. "Who knows what kind of wildlife lives in these mountains?"
It took all the fortitude Squall had to maintain his composure. He'd thought himself prepared to face the horrors of war head on. He'd assured himself countless times that each casualty was only a statistic, to be noted and never dwelled upon. Now steeped in the midst of so much death however, he understood there was nothing that could have truly prepared him.
"Scared?"
He turned his eyes to Seifer. Surprisingly, the quip had been devoid of his usual cocky inflection.
"I don't know," he murmured. "I'm trying not to think about it."
"That's only gonna make it worse. First time's always the hardest. But after a while, you'll learn to like it."
"I wonder. I don't take any pleasure in what we do. It's just business."
"Heh, I could've guessed you'd say that."
Seifer drew his gunblade from his coat. His eyes turned to the tower's platformed apex high above.
"I love battles. The scent of scorched earth, the roaring gunfire, the sheer visceral energy between you and your enemy as you strike him down… I live for that shit."
He thrust his weapon skyward, pointed straight for the top of the tower.
"Way I see it, as long as you make it out alive, you're one step closer to your dream."
"Your dream?" Squall repeated.
"Yeah, your life's calling. What you really want to make of yourself. And I'm not just talking joining SeeD and being a hired gun, but what comes after all that. Who you want to be remembered as after you're gone. You've got one, too, right?"
Squall furrowed his brow. He'd based his entire life around a single goal for as long as he could remember: to acquire the skills and know-how to look after himself. In pursuit of that goal, he'd made it his mission to become a SeeD. Today's field exam was to be the last remaining obstacle standing in his way. And yet, he'd become so single-mindedly focused on that one ambition, that he'd never actually given much thought to the future at all.
As a student of Balamb Garden, his life thus far had been planned out for him: finish basic education, become a cadet, train and refine his skills for years, and at the end of it all, become a fully-fledged SeeD. Whatever came after that would fall to him, and he had nothing to go off of. He'd already soiled his chances of passing on this day, giving him at least one more year of familiar routine to fall back on before taking the big step. And yet, there was a strange comfort to be found in acceptance of his failure. There was a reassuring predictability to his life as an undergraduate. Slowly but surely, those days were drawing to a close. What would fate hold for him once he did pass the exam? Or worse still, he never did and was unceremoniously dismissed from the Garden?
Am I afraid?
He had no real dream to speak of. He would serve as a member of the mercenary army, carrying out missions as they came until… what? Who else could he possibly be? What else could he possibly do but fight and take orders? He'd deserted his post for the sake of furthering the mission, or so he'd convinced himself. Was it possible he'd been subconsciously sabotaging himself the entire time, for fear of taking that next step to adulthood?
"I…"
His mind swirled out of control; the implications were piling on faster than he could process them. It was too much to consider at once, and not the appropriate time besides. He breathed deeply, disguising it as an exasperated sigh.
"Sorry, but I'm going to have to pass on that one."
"Pass on what?" Zell asked, having joined them at the bottom of the cliff side.
"None of your business, chicken-wuss," Seifer derided him. He turned before Zell could respond, making his way down the curving trail to the tower's base.
"Up yours!"
"Will you keep quiet?" Squall hushed him. "Do you want to blow our cover before we get inside?"
"Ah… sorry. He just pisses me off so damn much sometimes… well, all the time."
"You and everyone else."
"I know, but… it's like a really fierce kind of pissed off. Like a gut reaction that happens on its own."
Squall could relate; years on end spent around such a negative influence were bound to program such a reflex. Even for him, maintaining a calm disposition around Seifer was taxing.
"Hey, you two!"
The voice came from up on the ridge they'd descended. Squall spun back around with Zell. A petite girl in a Balamb cadet uniform stood atop the incline, bent forward, and visibly panting in exhaustion.
"I… I finally… caught up…"
We were being followed the whole time?
The girl carefully lowered herself over the edge. As her left foot slipped off a section of the rock, she lost her grip, and plummeted down with a yelp.
"Oh, shit!" Zell swore as he raced forward to catch her.
Squall stayed fixed to the spot. To his befuddlement, the girl seemed to slow dramatically less than a second before her legs met the ground. Her knees hit with a far more graceful thud than should have been possible. It had all happened so quickly, Squall wondered if it might have been a trick of the fast fading daylight. The large red and gold nunchaku strapped to her back were another matter, however; there was no mistaking those.
"Are you alright?!" Zell gasped as he reached her side.
He frantically fumbled about his belt for his medical supplies. Before he could retrieve them, the girl stuck her tongue out with a wink.
"Yeah, I'm fine!" she giggled. "I've taken a lot worse tumbles than that."
She climbed to her feet without any fuss. Her knees showed no trace of bruising nor skinning. She wiped away what little dirt and gravel clung to them before bringing her head up to look around.
"Ugh!" she winced in disgust at the surrounding massacre. "Gross! I did not need to see-"
She cut herself off as her eyes met Squall's.
"Hey! You're the guy who showed me to the ballroom! 'Squall', was it? Didn't think I'd run into you again so soon!"
"Likewise," he cursed his luck. Of every possible student to have discovered their desertion, she was the last he would have ever expected. Or wanted.
"Sorry… I'm not the best with names."
"It's alright," she smiled, breaking into a salute. "Squad 53, Selphie Tilmitt, CQC and party-lover, first class!"
What a title.
"Zell Dincht, CQC and tech specialist, first class!" Zell extended his hand. "I think we're gonna get along just fine."
Sadly, so do I.
"You know, you guys are a real pain to get a hold of!" she moaned as she released the handshake. "I was sent to deliver a message to you at the Aurora Square, but by the time I got there, you'd already taken off. I tailed you all the way up here."
"What kind of message?" Squall asked. A knot formed in his stomach.
"Withdrawal orders. And at this rate, we're gonna have to hurry!"
"Withdraw?" Zell repeated. "Already? The battle's still going on up here!"
"Hey, I'm just a messenger!" Selphie waved her hands. "But anyway, where's your squad captain? 'Seifer', I think his name was?"
Squall turned back to the tower's base further down the incline. Right on cue, their leader strode up to the large double doors. Squall didn't dare call out to him from such a distance, lest he risk alerting every guard inside. As soon as Seifer turned back around and pointed his gunblade up to him, he realized he needn't have bothered.
"Someday, I'm gonna tell you about my romantic dream!"
He swiveled back around, hoisted open one of the doors, and rushed through. Squall brought his palm up to his face; he couldn't even feign surprise anymore.
"I've said it before, I'll say it again," Zell sighed. "What. An. Idiot."
"Man, this is way more than I signed up for," Selphie groaned.
She broke into a sprint for the edge of the drop, maneuvering around the bodies littering the trail, and leapt. Once again, there came the mirage-like deceleration right before her feet touched down. An ordinary person would have chalked it up to superb acrobatic ability, or passed it off as their eyes playing tricks on them, as Squall had. He knew better now. He understood the technique she was utilizing, and yet by all accounts it shouldn't have been possible for her.
"Come on!" she called to them. "What are you waiting for?"
'Leap-before-you-look' type, indeed.
"I'm taking the path," he told Zell. "You?"
"Do I look like a moron?"
Squall let the question hang in the air. He started down the winding trail at a brisk jog, taking care not to trip over scattered debris and rocks. It too was laden with the corpses of Dollet and Galbadian soldiers, paving a trail of bloodshed onward to the tower. They reached the base in about 30 seconds.
"It would've been a lot quicker if you'd just jumped!" Selphie insisted.
"It always pays to be mindful of your surroundings," Squall countered. "Especially when we're going to be taking that trail back."
"Whatever. Let's just head in, find him, and get out of here. Like I said, we don't have a whole lot of time left."
Squall followed her through the open entrance into the tower's nexus. The dark circular interior was dimly lit by a ring of emergency lights ingrained into the corroded metal floor. Powered-on computer terminals lined the walls; some displayed lines of code, others static. As his eyes gradually adjusted, he could make out the silhouettes of several incapacitated soldiers, either slumped in their chairs by the workstations, or sprawled out on the ground. Seifer hadn't wasted any time. A wide grated shaft took up the center of the control hub, stretching up into the pitch black abyss. A large metal capsule was contained within. Another pair of hulking metal doors stood at the rear of the room, presumably leading further into the facility.
"Wow, he really cleaned house," Selphie admired Seifer's work.
"It's what he does best," Squall said. "That, and make life difficult for the rest of us."
"Where'd he go?" Zell wondered.
Squall's eyes flitted to a control panel next to the grating. A set of vertical rails ran straight up from a rectangular indent in the floor beside it, where the corresponding lift should have been.
"Up?"
"Makes sense," Selphie agreed.
"Well, let's give it a look," Zell said as he stepped forward and pressed the down button.
It was close to a minute before the loading platform came into view against the tower's dark upper recesses. It descended into place beside the panel with a thunk. Squall and Selphie followed Zell aboard, and with another button press, the lift jerked back to life. Its pace was agonizingly slow; the platform had clearly been designed for heavy lifting rather than speed.
"Before," Squall said to Zell. "When we wrung the plan out of the guard, you sounded like you knew this place."
"I've read up about it a little," Zell said, ruffling his hair. "It's pretty old tech. Dates back about 50 years, or so. Still, it was in regular use around these parts right up until the interference started. I've always wanted to come take a look at it sometime, see what I could learn. Sucks we're on a time crunch and all."
"I just want to know why the army's after it. You think they've come up with a fix for the interference?"
"Doubt it. We'd have definitely heard something. It'd be international news."
"Uh, guys… I'm a little lost here," Selphie interjected.
"It's a long story," Zell told her. "We don't really get it at this point, either. All we know is apparently Galbadia's whole reason for attacking Dollet was to seize this tower."
"Seriously?!"
"Keep it down," Squall shushed her. "I think I hear voices."
Darkness gave way to fast approaching twilight as the lift neared the top. A conversation gradually came into earshot over the motorized din.
"… agreement we will begin pulling out our forces, on the condition it remains active."
"If I can get it active! Why the hell am I the one stuck doing this?"
"I'm sorry, Major Biggs, but perhaps if we hadn't brought the Black Widow along, we'd have more men left on ha-"
"Oh, will you just shut it, Wedge! I get it. We should've left the damn thing back on the beach. Now stop bringing it up!"
The lift finally stopped on the wide circular expanse which ringed the tower's top. A grated metal platform branched off from the central shaft. Three stout satellite dishes were spaced evenly apart from each other around the circumference. Two Galbadian soldiers crouched beside one on the opposite side from Squall and his team. One wore the standard navy blue with silver plating, the other crimson, with his arms fully encased by the same metal alloy.
Squall silently motioned for his comrades to keep low. The three dropped into a crouch, circling around the left side of the shaft. Selphie preemptively drew her nunchaku, smothering its chain to muffle any jangling. Squall moved his hand to the hilt of his sheathed gunblade.
"Damn you, Caraway," the major swore as he fumbled with the dish's circuits. "That old codger's had it out for me ever since I got this promotion!"
"I wouldn't think that, sir," the grunt tried to reason with him. "He wouldn't give you such an important assignment if he didn't believe you could get it done, would he?"
"Still, this is way beneath my pay-grade! Geez, what's with these crappy old tools? Let's see… this one goes here… and that goes there…"
The threesome crept closer along the side of the shaft. Squall slowly unsheathed his gunblade, careful to make as little noise as possible.
Just a little closer…
"That goes with this, and… I think that's it!"
Squall froze as Biggs rose to his feet and pressed a series of buttons on the satellite. It audibly powered on with its two siblings. And then, the platform began to rumble. Squall spread his legs out to better balance himself as the tremor became more intense. Zell and Selphie gripped the metal grating below to keep steady; the Galbadians likewise clung for dear life to the side of the communication array. A roar drew near from the depths of the facility. Squall shifted his eyes to the central shaft. A gargantuan metal pillar shot out from below at tremendous speed, coming to an abrupt stop high above them. He craned his neck up, squinting against the afternoon sun's reflection on its shell. The capsule from the center of the control hub sat at the top.
With a pressurized hiss, the pillar twisted counter-clockwise. The capsule dipped down to form a 45 degree angle, now resembling a cannon pointed due east. Its casing slowly parted outward like a blossoming flower, separated into three evenly spaced fragments; a large antennae stuck out from the middle. Metal coupling automatically extended from either side of the jutting pieces, connecting to form an enormous satellite dish at least four times the size of the others on the platform. After 17 years of disuse, the tower was operational once again.
"Major Biggs! Intruders!"
Squall tore his wide eyed stare away from the massive dish. Wedge had drawn a standard issue glaive from his side; he hoisted it before him in a combat ready stance.
"What?!" Biggs bolted up as he noticed them. "A bunch of kids? How'd you get up here? What happened to the crew downstairs?!"
"Your men have all been dealt with," Squall bluntly told him as he raised his gunblade. "You have nowhere to run. Shut this tower down, now!"
"Over my dead body, you little punk!"
The major pointed his steel-plated right gauntlet at him, bracing it with his left. Squall summoned his protective barrier just as the attached machine gun sputtered to life; its bullets ricocheted off the transparent blue shield.
"You brats should've stayed home," Wedge sneered. He charged at Selphie with his glaive held high. The girl intercepted his slash with her nunchaku, the blade not leaving so much as a nick in the weapon's body.
Squall rushed forward to meet Biggs. He drew back his gunblade, and pulled the trigger as he released the strike. The major leapt out of the way more nimbly than his bulky uniform would have suggested. The slice instead met the platform, cleaving through the metal grating with ease. Not wasting a moment, Squall raised his free hand toward Biggs. He concentrated on drawing forth the energy, just as he'd tried that morning. Flames pulsed from his palm, forming a burning sphere. Biggs threw himself out of the way as the fireball shot towards him. It threaded the gap that had opened between Selphie and Wedge, bursting as it hit the pillar holding up the giant dish.
"Are you crazy?!" Biggs roared. "You kill me, and you'll never know how to shut this thing down!"
"I'd be up to take a crack at it," Zell quipped.
He'd flanked Biggs in the confusion, and placed his left hand on his armored shoulder. He slugged him in the jaw with the other, sending him toppling over. He next brought his foot down on his right arm, appearing to channel his GF's power to amplify his own physical strength. Biggs screamed as the stomp demolished his gauntlet, machine gun and all. The force had been strong enough to bore a small hole through the platform's grating underneath. Zell knelt down to hoist him up by the scruff of his uniform.
"Thing is, we're kinda pressed for time. So, whatd'ya say you cooperate, and I won't have to break your legs, too."
"Put him down!"
The command came from beside the pillar. Squall turned his head to see Wedge having restrained Selphie by the waist, his glaive held up to her throat. Her nunchaku lay on the platform several feet away. Squall's mind raced as she backed her neck away from the blade. He would never be able to clear the gap in time by conventional means. Fire spellcraft would only be liable to catch Selphie in the crossfire, leaving him with only one option to fall back on: his secondary magical element of choice.
Each Guardian Force held a unique disposition towards and against the different varieties of elemental spellcraft. It was seemingly the nature of the creature's essence tied to the sphere which determined what kinds were best suited. For Squall, whose own was of a fire nature, it was spellcraft of that particular element which would be most potent. Conversely, any attempt by him to utilize water and ice spells would be exceedingly ineffective. Zell's earth sphere gave him an inclination towards manipulating rock in various ways, or by channeling raw strength into his limbs as he'd just demonstrated; his own particular shortcomings lay with lightning and wind.
The remaining schools of spellcraft could potentially be conjured by any skilled wielder, regardless of their GF's native element. Over the last six months, Squall had reoriented his focus onto mastering the usage of wind. It was a multifaceted element, with a variety of uses beyond mere offensive or defensive capabilities. In particular, channeling the energy through one's legs could allow the wielder to enhance their own physical movement. With proper application, he could jump far higher than a normal human, slow his fall by generating a flotation buffer beneath him, or most pertinently, give himself a speed boost to clear the distance in time to cut down Wedge. It would be risky, but he was left with no other choice.
He swung his gunblade back, and focused the energy into his legs. A loud crackle of static broke his concentration. He looked to the captive, close-eyed Selphie. To his amazement, her body had begun to shimmer with a radiant light. Wedge reeled his head back in confusion as the crackling intensified. And then, the energy was unleashed; lightning exploded from her petite figure, electrocuting him on the spot. He dropped his glaive, screaming and spluttering in agony. He toppled over, his uniform charred and smoking. The electricity dissipated as quickly as it had materialized. Selphie opened her eyes as the light faded, her lips curling into a cheeky grin.
"Booyaka!" she declared with her hands on her hips.
Squall was utterly beside himself, and not merely on account of the nonsensical battle cry. The blast was beyond anything a new GF user should have been capable of. He was clueless as to how she'd managed to control it so well. Further, he was now convinced that the manner in which she'd broken her fall twice before had been no illusion. It was the very same flotation buffer technique he'd spent months perfecting. And here was this ditzy transfer student, so fresh she still struggled to find her way around campus, who could somehow do the same.
"Screw this!"
Biggs broke free from Zell's grasp. He bolted for the opposite end of the platform, circling the pillar back to the lift.
"Come on!" Selphie urged as she retrieved her nunchaku. "Let's move!"
Squall and Zell followed her lead. They turned the corner to find Biggs frantically jamming the lift control panel, pleading with it to hurry.
"Give it up," Zell taunted him. "You've lost. Just accept it, and do as we say."
"In your dreams, you little shit!" he swore, turning to face them. "If you don't kill me, the top brass will! I'm not about to let all this work I've put in here go to waste. Not by a bunch of baby-faced brats like you!"
"Oh, will you just shut up!"
The snide voice came from behind him, its owner rising with the lift. Seifer kicked Biggs with a well-timed boot to the back, sending him toppling over face first. He stepped off the elevator, and placed his foot atop the downed major's body.
"What a blowhard!"
Takes one to know one…
"Captain Seifer!" Selphie addressed him.
"Well, at least someone here's got a sense of decorum," he smirked.
"I'm a messenger from Squad 53. I've come to give you withdrawal orders."
"Withdraw?! We haven't finished the fight yet!"
"I know, I know! But, those are the orders. All SeeDs and exam participants are to assemble at the shore by 1900 hours. We've got to hurry if we're going to make it!"
"1900 hours?" Squall repeated.
He pulled back his jacket's sleeve to expose his wristwatch; he'd previously adjusted it to Dollet Standard Time during his long shift spent manning the assault boat's turret. His eyes widened as he read the display: 18:32.
"We've got less than 30 minutes!"
"What?!" Zell blew up.
"That's why I was telling you guys we need to hurry!" Selphie urged them.
"Point taken," Seifer said.
He gave Biggs one more kick for good measure, punched the control panel, and stepped back on the lift. It sunk back down before anyone else had a chance to board.
"Hey!" Zell shouted after him; he raced to the open shaft and peered down. "What the hell?!"
"Exam's over, chicken-wuss! It's every man for himself, now! Better run if you don't wanna be swimming home!"
"Not much of a leader, is he?" Selphie sighed.
Squall let the question drift into the early evening air without an answer. Making it back down the mountain and through the city in time would take every ounce of physical endurance he had. He could theoretically conjure the wind energy to enhance his own speed, but would end up leaving Zell in the dust. For how little he cared for his squadmate's company, he couldn't stand to follow Seifer's example.
He eyed Selphie curiously as they waited for the lift to return. The flotation buffer technique was an advanced one which had taken Squall several months of practice to master. It required expert control of the energy to maintain an even and steady deceleration; the higher the fall, the more it would take. As such, he was not about to jump off the communications tower to avoid waiting for the lift, for which it was unlikely any amount of energy would suffice.
"It's coming back!" Zell called. "Let's get on!"
Squall brushed the matter aside. Making it home was all that concerned him now. He stepped forward with Selphie onto the lift as it rose. Zell pressed the panel, and they descended back into the tower's nexus.
Major Biggs lay face down on the grated platform, his body sore from the beating he'd taken. His right arm screamed in pain louder than anywhere else; he counted himself lucky it hadn't been snapped clean in two. The cargo elevator's hum faded away behind him, carrying down the teenage interlopers who'd nearly laid waste to their plans.
The top brass had refused to tell him why it was important they capture and reactivate the abandoned tower. He'd obeyed his orders to the letter, all the same. The tower remained operational even now in lieu of the cadets' forced withdrawal. And yet, despite the mission's success, that it had almost been foiled so easily on his watch was unacceptable. The four had stormed the tower, defeated his men, incapacitated him and his lieutenant, and likely would have shut it down if not for the ceasefire. He would surely be demoted upon his return to the capital, and possibly even reassigned.
He'd loathed General Caraway's executive decision to give him the assignment. His talents were better suited for a spot on the front lines. By contrast, the charge he'd led into the city and up the mountain had mostly gone according to plan. Its sole complication had come courtesy of the prototype weapon they'd deployed; having caused more collateral damage than it was worth, he'd deactivated it upon seizing the tower, and had it moved to the rear storage bay. Had only they been supplied with the army's newly developed hover mechs instead. Once again, Caraway's stubborn, nonsensical decision making had nearly spelled his doom.
I'm not having this!
He pushed himself up with his left arm, rising to his knees. He ran his fingers all over his utility belt to find the remote control, and pulled it free. Squinting his eyes through his visor, he set the dial to match the reinstated tower's frequency; burst transmission would be the only way for the signal to reach the dormant mech far down on the bottom level. He knew the risks. The Black Widow's AI had shown difficulty distinguishing friend from foe, resulting in the deaths of many in his platoon. He thought it over for a moment, and pressed the button.
I don't care anymore. Just as long as it kills those little shits!