Post by winaddar on Oct 29, 2016 17:14:51 GMT -8
The dropships depart angrily into the sun, masking their exit.
A stern voice echoes throughout the cockpit, startling the raw cadet.
“Alright new guy, go scout the southern canyons and at least try to identify what killed you *before* you die.
The cadet inwardly moans.
“Aff, Charlie Leader.”
The reply is even more brusque.
“Disappear.”
Thus, a lone Jenner-class light mech charges silently (as far as 35 ton behemoths go) along a dry riverbank to the south.
The cadet mumbles, mimicking his lance leader in ways not fitting to be recorded. He triple checks his comm gear just to be sure he’s not broadcasting. He has quickly discovered the training simulators never quite match reality. He busies himself with yet another system check, ensuring he can activate every control without looking.
He continues along the canyon cliff edge at full throttle for what seems like several minutes, often staring into the forest below. His comm chatter tells of the rest of his unit engaging in at least one full enemy lance a few thousand feet away. To pass the time, he begins counting his mech’s footfalls.
As he clears yet another bolder (on step number 239), he is suddenly interrupted by a giant metal form: an enemy Kodiak, seemingly as caught off guard to see him as he was it.
Panicking, he fires an alpha strike (missing by a mile), and throws the control stick to his right, sending his mech soaring off the cliff and crashing into the forest below. He zigs and zags through the trees, crashing through most of them, as he avoids most of the laser beams lancing in his direction.
His seat cushion feels suddenly warm and wet for some reason.
Several moments pass before he determines the enemy has not given chase, and he allows himself a moment to breath. Remembering his scouting duties, he thumbs the comm rely.
“This is Charlie four, one Kodiak, hotel eight.”
Soft static answers. He realizes he hasn’t heard any chatter since he evaded the assault mech.
“This is Charlie four, one assault located at grid hotel eight, over.”
Again, no reply. He almost starts to believe that somehow his entire star was wiped out in a relative instant when he notices his mech whirring slightly louder than it should, and is he leaning just slightly to one side? He pushes a few computer buttons and the diagnostic readout shows slight damage to his legs and rear torso, his gyroscope operating at 125% normal, and that there is an unknown problem with his external communication transmission/reception gear. The damage was undoubtedly from enemy fire (and falling off a cliff – he belatedly remembers his jump jets), but the gyro and comm issues? Confused, he unbuckles his chest straps so he can lean forward and try to inspect his own head.
Well, there the problem: a very large tree branch, with a full bloom of bright green leaves, was jutting several dozen feet from his mech’s skull right where a small cluster of antennae should actually be.
He tries not to laugh as he tries to figure out what to do now. Cut off from his unit, with an enemy assault mech nearby.
He knows what to do; he’s trained for just this scenario: one assault versus one light equals one dead assault, as long as he performs perfectly. He can’t wait to see the look on his lance commander’s face as he reverses course and works his way back to his initial encounter area. Following his path of destruction is easy enough, and he fires the jump jets, soaring upward to regain the position on the cliff.
This will be glorious! His first kill against a mighty Kodiak shall cement his name forever in the annuals of history. This will be yet the beginning of his stellar military career, undoubtedly leading to glory beyond his imagination!
He howls to the abyss “My name is- “
Cresting the top of the cliff, he barely has time to notice the three Kodiaks waiting for him before his mech is vaporized under a hell storm of burning light and depleted uranium shells. The behemoths turn and continue north, instantly forgetting the suicidal charge of a single gnat.
Thousands of feet away, the lance commander notices a single blue dot disappear from the edge of his map display.
“Well, looks like the runt couldn’t even tell us what he saw. I wonder if I can give him a posthumous demotion?”
*****
Originating Agency: Communications Interception Station Alpha Two, Sector One Three
Log Entry: 73-D
Subject: Possible New Enemy Target Identification/Reference Code Phrase
Message:
1. Decryption and translation of communication intercepts during the most recent battle in sector 13 seems to indicate the first instance of a particular code phrase likely in context of target recognition.
2. In order to equate the code phrase to a likely reference point, this station respectfully requests the post-battle combat damage assessment team attempt to locate a friendly unit, likely destroyed, which would elicit the description of “tree head.” Not to interfere with other tasking.
3. Low priority. Reply in standard report.
End of Message
A stern voice echoes throughout the cockpit, startling the raw cadet.
“Alright new guy, go scout the southern canyons and at least try to identify what killed you *before* you die.
The cadet inwardly moans.
“Aff, Charlie Leader.”
The reply is even more brusque.
“Disappear.”
Thus, a lone Jenner-class light mech charges silently (as far as 35 ton behemoths go) along a dry riverbank to the south.
The cadet mumbles, mimicking his lance leader in ways not fitting to be recorded. He triple checks his comm gear just to be sure he’s not broadcasting. He has quickly discovered the training simulators never quite match reality. He busies himself with yet another system check, ensuring he can activate every control without looking.
He continues along the canyon cliff edge at full throttle for what seems like several minutes, often staring into the forest below. His comm chatter tells of the rest of his unit engaging in at least one full enemy lance a few thousand feet away. To pass the time, he begins counting his mech’s footfalls.
As he clears yet another bolder (on step number 239), he is suddenly interrupted by a giant metal form: an enemy Kodiak, seemingly as caught off guard to see him as he was it.
Panicking, he fires an alpha strike (missing by a mile), and throws the control stick to his right, sending his mech soaring off the cliff and crashing into the forest below. He zigs and zags through the trees, crashing through most of them, as he avoids most of the laser beams lancing in his direction.
His seat cushion feels suddenly warm and wet for some reason.
Several moments pass before he determines the enemy has not given chase, and he allows himself a moment to breath. Remembering his scouting duties, he thumbs the comm rely.
“This is Charlie four, one Kodiak, hotel eight.”
Soft static answers. He realizes he hasn’t heard any chatter since he evaded the assault mech.
“This is Charlie four, one assault located at grid hotel eight, over.”
Again, no reply. He almost starts to believe that somehow his entire star was wiped out in a relative instant when he notices his mech whirring slightly louder than it should, and is he leaning just slightly to one side? He pushes a few computer buttons and the diagnostic readout shows slight damage to his legs and rear torso, his gyroscope operating at 125% normal, and that there is an unknown problem with his external communication transmission/reception gear. The damage was undoubtedly from enemy fire (and falling off a cliff – he belatedly remembers his jump jets), but the gyro and comm issues? Confused, he unbuckles his chest straps so he can lean forward and try to inspect his own head.
Well, there the problem: a very large tree branch, with a full bloom of bright green leaves, was jutting several dozen feet from his mech’s skull right where a small cluster of antennae should actually be.
He tries not to laugh as he tries to figure out what to do now. Cut off from his unit, with an enemy assault mech nearby.
He knows what to do; he’s trained for just this scenario: one assault versus one light equals one dead assault, as long as he performs perfectly. He can’t wait to see the look on his lance commander’s face as he reverses course and works his way back to his initial encounter area. Following his path of destruction is easy enough, and he fires the jump jets, soaring upward to regain the position on the cliff.
This will be glorious! His first kill against a mighty Kodiak shall cement his name forever in the annuals of history. This will be yet the beginning of his stellar military career, undoubtedly leading to glory beyond his imagination!
He howls to the abyss “My name is- “
Cresting the top of the cliff, he barely has time to notice the three Kodiaks waiting for him before his mech is vaporized under a hell storm of burning light and depleted uranium shells. The behemoths turn and continue north, instantly forgetting the suicidal charge of a single gnat.
Thousands of feet away, the lance commander notices a single blue dot disappear from the edge of his map display.
“Well, looks like the runt couldn’t even tell us what he saw. I wonder if I can give him a posthumous demotion?”
*****
Originating Agency: Communications Interception Station Alpha Two, Sector One Three
Log Entry: 73-D
Subject: Possible New Enemy Target Identification/Reference Code Phrase
Message:
1. Decryption and translation of communication intercepts during the most recent battle in sector 13 seems to indicate the first instance of a particular code phrase likely in context of target recognition.
2. In order to equate the code phrase to a likely reference point, this station respectfully requests the post-battle combat damage assessment team attempt to locate a friendly unit, likely destroyed, which would elicit the description of “tree head.” Not to interfere with other tasking.
3. Low priority. Reply in standard report.
End of Message