DISPOSABLE HERO ONESHOT: DAVID VERSUS GOLIATH PT 1
Year 3014, Loric
On the plains of Loric, blue grass and dirt were reduced into featureless mulch by tonnes of ferro-fibrous and plasteel as the column moved through the battlefield. Aroxy opened up the porthole and looked out from the turret at the devastation around him. It was an abattoir of rust. The Von Luckner rolled past the remnants of a Locust cockpit, stripped off its gangly legs and buried in the earth. Beyond that, he could still see smoldering steel wrecks, embers flickering His mouth was in a grim frown as he heard the sound of scavenger birds cawing in the distance. He sniffed the air and cringed. It was still thick with the smog of slaughter and he could still taste the iron tang of blood and cordite. Artillery and missiles had pummeled the hills into a flat expanse and there were only droplets of green in the mountains of grey and red.
All of this because some brotherly spat.
Aroxy took out his canister of Brace and inhaled it deep, letting the vapor wash away his stress. It was relatively silent. They were to meet with Kappa-5 at the LZ and launch an attack on a requisition outpost that the rebellion was using to stage its attack on Loric. They were there to sweep up whatever stragglers the Mechwarriors left behind. It wasn’t the most glamorous job but the men were glad to be alive and silence was preferable to the sound of SRMs whistling over his head and barking out commands every second.
Then, the lead tank in the column evaporated in a ball of molten steel and fire, causing the entire line to come to a halt.
“ Disperse! Disperse!,” Aroxy’s mind was laser-focused now as he barked out into the platoon comm. The column fractured, the tanks scattering like ants. Several more bright flashes erupted, black dots skittering across Aroxy’s vision even through his protective polarised goggles. It took several moments for him to determine the direction of fire. He turned his head to the foggy horizon and his breakfast nearly vacated out of his guts at the sight of the 25 foot tall metal behemoth that he saw.
“ It’s a Warhammer. I repeat, it’s a goddamn Warhammer!”
The comm chatter went silent for one second. Aroxy could almost hear the audible grinding of gears in the minds of the men around them. They were expecting a light class, maybe, a medium at most. Facing a Heavy-Class in a tank. Before Aroxy could continue, the radio chatter began to fill with panic and pure terror.
“ Oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck”
“ Well, it’s been nice knowing you, gentlemen.”
“ Screw this. Marik doesn’t pay me enough C-Bills for this crap!”
Aroxy watched in dismal horror as the Scorpion to his left stalled and the crew began pouring out of its portholes like rats fleeing from a sinking ship.
They were so fucked.
Year 3014, Loric
On the plains of Loric, blue grass and dirt were reduced into featureless mulch by tonnes of ferro-fibrous and plasteel as the column moved through the battlefield. Aroxy opened up the porthole and looked out from the turret at the devastation around him. It was an abattoir of rust. The Von Luckner rolled past the remnants of a Locust cockpit, stripped off its gangly legs and buried in the earth. Beyond that, he could still see smoldering steel wrecks, embers flickering His mouth was in a grim frown as he heard the sound of scavenger birds cawing in the distance. He sniffed the air and cringed. It was still thick with the smog of slaughter and he could still taste the iron tang of blood and cordite. Artillery and missiles had pummeled the hills into a flat expanse and there were only droplets of green in the mountains of grey and red.
All of this because some brotherly spat.
Aroxy took out his canister of Brace and inhaled it deep, letting the vapor wash away his stress. It was relatively silent. They were to meet with Kappa-5 at the LZ and launch an attack on a requisition outpost that the rebellion was using to stage its attack on Loric. They were there to sweep up whatever stragglers the Mechwarriors left behind. It wasn’t the most glamorous job but the men were glad to be alive and silence was preferable to the sound of SRMs whistling over his head and barking out commands every second.
Then, the lead tank in the column evaporated in a ball of molten steel and fire, causing the entire line to come to a halt.
“ Disperse! Disperse!,” Aroxy’s mind was laser-focused now as he barked out into the platoon comm. The column fractured, the tanks scattering like ants. Several more bright flashes erupted, black dots skittering across Aroxy’s vision even through his protective polarised goggles. It took several moments for him to determine the direction of fire. He turned his head to the foggy horizon and his breakfast nearly vacated out of his guts at the sight of the 25 foot tall metal behemoth that he saw.
“ It’s a Warhammer. I repeat, it’s a goddamn Warhammer!”
The comm chatter went silent for one second. Aroxy could almost hear the audible grinding of gears in the minds of the men around them. They were expecting a light class, maybe, a medium at most. Facing a Heavy-Class in a tank. Before Aroxy could continue, the radio chatter began to fill with panic and pure terror.
“ Oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck”
“ Well, it’s been nice knowing you, gentlemen.”
“ Screw this. Marik doesn’t pay me enough C-Bills for this crap!”
Aroxy watched in dismal horror as the Scorpion to his left stalled and the crew began pouring out of its portholes like rats fleeing from a sinking ship.
They were so fucked.