1.36
Cameron hit the ground with all the force of a divine judgement. He impacted the ground with such a thunderous crash that it displaced the chlorine gas around him, kicking up a layer of dirt and debris and giving him a brief moment that he could gaze into the shocked faces of the five Squire pilots through their windshields. Each of them bore a face that was caked in filth and grime, with bulging yet baggy and exhaustive eyes and wide-open mouths of rotted, blackened teeth. They all looked terrified, unsure of what to do as they looked at Cameron and to each other, mouths moving rapidly into their headsets.
Cameron knew exactly what he was going to do.
Without a word, Cameron ripped the sword from his back with his left hand, using the momentum to keep its arc until it collided with the shoulder joint of the Squire in front of him cutting into him like a hot knife through butter as he bisected the unit diagonally in one clean stroke, splaying blood and oil across the remaining combatants. He let the blade continue its trajectory until it buried itself into the ground. He spun left, using his boost jets to whip him around ninety degrees in an instant, in order to focus his attention on his next target. He pushed off the pommel of his sword with his palm, using it like a springboard to deliver a powerful kick to his opponent's midsection and sending him flying.
“This is about to hurt you… a lot,” He said, fully aware of the grin that stretched across his face, as he dashed forward, freeing his sword as he sped up to one hundred and fifty miles an hour and heaving it forward, its massive weight yanking him into a spiraling twirl before connecting with the second Squires cockpit on the upswing, blowing out the glass of the windshield and barreling through to squash the basic mech into the planet surface, like an insect under a boot.
“Oh, I am fucking amazing at this!” He declared, hefting his sword up to rest on his shoulders, and delivering one last stomp to the second Squire’s chassis.
“Sugar, I’m glad you’re having a good time and gaining some confidence in your abilities, but I just thought I’d let you know that three squires are closing in on your rear flank. Fifteen meters and dwindling fast.”
“Ah shit,” Cameron cursed, spinning around to see that she wasn’t lying as three squires were approaching in a wedge, spread out far enough that he couldn’t hit multiple with a single blow. They’re shields were up, covering most of the windshields, and their swords were drawn, positioned in varying heights and angles in order to dissuade him from wildly attacking.
“Well… this is a problem.”
Cameron tried to think quickly, struggling to come up with a plan. When that failed him, he resorted to what had been working; unchecked aggression and blinding speed. He dashed forward, appearing to meet the unit's head on, and causing them to stop short, readying for a fight.
“Not today, fuckers!” He shouted, leaping into the air, letting his boosters carry him into a hover above the heads of the three squires, before dropping back down, curling and flipping forward as he brought the sword down directly on the leader, cutting through him like paper. Staying crouched, he turned and threw his sword at the one on the left, before turning and bursting into a full speed tackle, spearing the one on the right. He wasn’t concerned about the accuracy of the blade itself, as long as he heard the windshield shatter, the noise of which greeted him, followed by the screaming chokes of a now poisoned pilot, leaving him to focus on the third.
He looked down on the last pilot, terror splayed across his face, mouth agape in a silent scream, hands going up in what seemed to be a plea for mercy.
Cameron, would never know.
He drew back his arm, stretching his clawed fingers out to a point, before jabbing forward, breaking the glass and skewering the pilot, filling the cockpit with a scarlet mist.
Cameron stopped then, looking at the surrounding wreckage. His could feel his heart pumping hard in his ears, as the sound of his breathing filled the cockpit. He stood up straight, turning and walking to pull his sword out of the windshield of the second mech, ignoring the body that hung lifelessly over the side.
“Logan, you there?” He said, trying to catch his breath, “…People are dead now.”
It took Logan a while to respond, and when he did, heavy breathing, and the distant hum of alarms accentuated his words.
“Little busy here kid!” He said, “Seems that one of those Wardens was closer than we thought.”
Cameron shifted quickly, setting off in the direction, “I’m en route, try to keep him off you and we can take him together,”
“N0! Don’t worry about me! You need to focus on-”
Cameron didn’t catch the last of what Logan had said. Thelma had cut the audio feed so she could relay more pressing matters that were directly affecting her pilot.
“Mayday, Mayday,” She said, “Twin plasma lances approaching from your southwest sector two-six-five. Take evasive action, now!”
Cameron didn’t need to be told twice. Thinking fast, he dashed hard to the right, clearing the kill zone just as two beams of plasma energy hit the spot Cameron had been standing in a minute prior, transforming it from a dust covered piece of earth into a molten pit of red hot slag. The impact had been so intense, that even with Cameron avoiding the impact area, the force of the blast still took him off his feet, hurtling him a few dozen feet away. He spent several long seconds tumbling to a stop, feeling the beginning fogginess of a concussion being tamped down by a cocktail of drugs being fed directly into his synaptic uplink.
“Ugh…” He said, eyes swimming with jagged white flashes as he struggled to get to his feet, “What… the… hell…”
“My my…” A feminine voice said, tone dripping with malicious intent, and augmented by the static hum of an audiocaster, “You move quick pilot!”
Cameron’s eyes had to strain to search through the cloudy haze of gas, eventually being aided by Thelma’s scanners highlighting the surrounding environment. It was then he saw where the voice had came from. One voice belonging to one of three units and Cameron could take a guess that it was coming from the figure who wielded a large, bow-like construct, fashioned in the shape of an X, with a large bolt of blue plasma thrumming in the center, raised and aimed straight at him, before he heard the voice again.
“Shame I don’t miss twice…”
The sounds of clashing steel and rolling thunder vibrated Crusader’s cockpit, as Logan engaged his quarry. From the moment he’d landed, he’d been set upon by the heavily armored Warden. It was certainly an imposing unit, with a tall and wide bodied chassis, fitted with curved, shaped armor and painted in an emerald and ash palette that seemed to help it meld in and out of the chlorine gas as it circled Logan’s Crusader, waiting for the perfect moment to reach out and strike with its long thin blade.
“Logan, you there?” Cameron’s voice crackled into Logan’s comm piece “…People are dead now.”
Logan wanted to reply, but he the Warden was making it hard for him to multitask, taking the lead of their deadly little waltz by slowly walking Logan back, using a series of quick flourishing slashes to force him to give up ground until he felt the unmoving wall that was the train itself pressing against his back. A swift thrust came almost too late for Logan to react, causing him to drop his shield and bring his palm up to push into his opponents shoulder joint, clamping down hard and causing the attack to stop short as he and the Warden entered a stalemate.
“Little busy here kid!” He managed to get out, gritting his teeth as he did so, “Seems that one of those Wardens was closer than we thought.”
“Who… the hell… are you…” A gruff, gravely voice said, coming from the speaker of the Warden, “This… is… our territory..”
Logan didn’t reply, there was no point. Instead, he ignored the question, as well as the screaming hydraulic sensor on his HUD that was threatening to break from the strain and dropped his center of gravity. In one swift motion he shoulder checked the enemy pilot directly in the cockpit while working his palm down the main sword arm of the Warden, pushing it up hard and forcing the mech off balance, allowing him to slip away from the wall and back onto open ground, just in time for Cameron to radio over again.
“I’m en route, try to keep him off you and we can take him together!”
Logan was quick to respond then. If one Warden was here, then that could only me the other A.R.M.S. were playing commander behind the Squires. He yelled into the mic, hoping the urgency was enough to get through,
“N0! Don’t worry about me! You need to focus on the other A.R.M.S! I’ll be fine!”
In response he was greeted with nothing but static, just in time for his opponent to reorient himself and press the attack once again, twin boosters on it’s back firing on full blast as it leaped towards him in a sweeping lunge, aiming for his midsection. Logan was prepared this time however, bringing his mace up with two hands, one on the handle and one on the tungsten haft, and turning it sideways.
The steel sword met the tungsten haft with an ear piercing clang as somewhere off in the distance an explosion sent shockwaves reverberating even to where Logan was standing, causing his eyes to go wide as he pushed off the attack and tried to hail Cameron.
“Kid? You good over there?!” He called, his voice sounding more concerned by the second, “Kid, Can you hear me?! Cameron?!”
Again, he was met with silent static, causing him to curse as he went on the offensive, sensing a countdown had just started until that static became permanent. He twisted the haft and pushed the sword away and down from him, bringing a foot up high to stomp on the crossguard and deliver a downward blow aimed at the dominant elbow joint. He smirked as he felt the familiar crunch of the mace crunching through metal, but the smirk quickly faded when he pulled back and saw there was barely an inch worth of penetration.
“Fucking heavies,” He cursed, mentally dyling his comm channel over to the train security officer from their free-fall.
“Grizzy One to Honeypot, mayday mayday, I need fire for effect out here. I know you’re targeting softwares scrapped but you can still aim manually right?” He said, sounding a bit more desperate than he expected to.
“Can confirm Grizzly One,” The voice said, after a few moments. “Give us the grid coordinates and fifteen seconds and we can lay some hate downrange where it’s needed.”
“Roger that,” Logan said, switching off the comm channel and turning away from Warden, dashing off into the smoke.
“Vic,” Logan said, looking over his shoulder to confirm that the pirate was indeed giving chase, “Give me a ten digit grid coordinate for three hundred meters in front of me.”
“Certainly Sir,” Victor’s posh accent responded, taking a second to do some advanced calculations before displaying a series of numbers and letters appeared at the bottom of his HUD. Satisfied with the result he switched back over to the comm channel, making sure to speak clearly.
“Honeypot be advised, fire on my mark at the following grid zone; Thirteen tango, break… four six two seven niner, break… eight niner five four three, over.”
“Recieved Grizzly One,” Honeypot responded, “Dialing in now.”
It took a tad longer than Logan would have liked, and he had to slow down, risking a couple of wide slashes from the still chasing Warden, but as he neared the coordinates he’d given, he heard over the channel some of the most beautiful words in the spoken language, “All guns dialed in Grizzly One, on your call.”
Logan grinned wide, speeding up slightly as he hit the coordinates, then passed them, quickly turning around to see the heavily armored Warden, lagging behind, but still harrying him, eager for the kill.
‘To bad he’d never get his wish.’ Logan thought, mentally counting the travel distance of a rail cannon shot. He waited until just before the Warden had crossed into the grid zone, before giving the order with a toothy grin.
“Send it.”
There was a split second of silence, where the Warden crossed into the zone unmolested, and Logan worried he’d given the wrong coordinates. But that worry quickly dissolved when four large blue balls of plasma hit the heavily armored Warden like the fist of god. They didn’t so much pierce the mech, as much as they vaporized any physical matter that they came into contact with, stopping the Warden directly in its tracks, as massive holes punched through it effortlessly, transforming Logan’s relentless pursuer into a smoldering pile of iron in an instant.
Logan could hardly contain his excitement at watching such an awesome display of firepower. His grin could be heard over the radio as he offered his thanks.
“Way to reach out and touch somebody, Honeypot. Ceasefire for now.”
“Roger that Grizzly One. I certainly don’t mind laying back and letting y’all take care of all the heavy lifting.”
“Preciate it Honeypot. Now… If you’ll excuse me… I think someone’s fucking with my cub.”