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Fan Fiction / Re: BattleTech Flash Fiction
« Last post by 9thLetter on Today at 16:44:33 »Self Defence
The Lyran ‘Mech’s seemed impatient to her as they maneuvered through the woodland. But what threat were a retreating Wolfhound and Valkyrie to the approaching Zeus, Enfield, and a pair of rapacious Blackhawks-KUs?
Just a few more hundred metres.
She’d been betrayed before. This catastrophe of a situation that had them trapped on planet and pursued by so-called Loyalist forces had the same sharp scent of avarice.
She sat in the hidden Schiltron, linked to the remaining Pilum heavy tanks. Their positions carefully selected. The air in the C3 vehicle was heavy, aromas of the morning’s heated ration packs still present. Her appointment to command the grouping of combat vehicles was an acknowledgement of the 40-year-old’s skill and her ability to bring people together.
Keep chasing our wounded ‘Mechs.
They had heard an extraction of some kind was in the works. She also knew the Lyran Alliance had sent reinforcements. These were problems for tomorrow.
Following her command appointment, she wished she could whisper to a younger version of herself that it would all work out, despite the fear and shame and anger. That eventually it wouldn’t be the last thing she thought of before sleep.
“We find the use of lethal force to have been necessary and proportionate self defence.” Such a tidy summary to the climax of her superior’s unwanted attentions.
Any moment now.
No one believed what was happening when the Lyran forces had first turned on them. Communications were confused. Truth and rumour competed. But she remembered how reality could shatter upon one violent inflection point. She remembered what it took to survive.
Indicators blinked on the panel in front of her. The forward observers had triggered their TAG designators. She keyed her mike, and in a quiet voice issued her order. Launch reports came across the net in response as propellant ignited, spewing flame and fumes. Vehicles swayed. The Arrow IV missiles would impact within seconds. The tanks and her Schiltron began moving. The upthreat Wolfhound and Valkyrie continued their limping retreat. The forward observers knew the RV.
She had issued the fire control orders and reattack pre-plans hours ago. Salvo spreads were largely established by doctrine and tailored by circumstance. The expertise lay in setting the conditions for success.
The Zeus staggered as the first missile denotated against its thick chest. Two more ripped away its right leg as others fell upon the toppling ‘Mech. The Blackhawks leapt into the air, but the homing missiles corrected and smashed them to the ground in pieces. The Enfield raised its arms then disappeared in a cacophony of exploding warheads. Within heartbeats, only acrid-smelling smoke moved in the clearing, drifting amongst blackened, twisted metal.
The forward observers delivered their battle damage assessments and broke contact.
9th
The Lyran ‘Mech’s seemed impatient to her as they maneuvered through the woodland. But what threat were a retreating Wolfhound and Valkyrie to the approaching Zeus, Enfield, and a pair of rapacious Blackhawks-KUs?
Just a few more hundred metres.
She’d been betrayed before. This catastrophe of a situation that had them trapped on planet and pursued by so-called Loyalist forces had the same sharp scent of avarice.
She sat in the hidden Schiltron, linked to the remaining Pilum heavy tanks. Their positions carefully selected. The air in the C3 vehicle was heavy, aromas of the morning’s heated ration packs still present. Her appointment to command the grouping of combat vehicles was an acknowledgement of the 40-year-old’s skill and her ability to bring people together.
Keep chasing our wounded ‘Mechs.
They had heard an extraction of some kind was in the works. She also knew the Lyran Alliance had sent reinforcements. These were problems for tomorrow.
Following her command appointment, she wished she could whisper to a younger version of herself that it would all work out, despite the fear and shame and anger. That eventually it wouldn’t be the last thing she thought of before sleep.
“We find the use of lethal force to have been necessary and proportionate self defence.” Such a tidy summary to the climax of her superior’s unwanted attentions.
Any moment now.
No one believed what was happening when the Lyran forces had first turned on them. Communications were confused. Truth and rumour competed. But she remembered how reality could shatter upon one violent inflection point. She remembered what it took to survive.
Indicators blinked on the panel in front of her. The forward observers had triggered their TAG designators. She keyed her mike, and in a quiet voice issued her order. Launch reports came across the net in response as propellant ignited, spewing flame and fumes. Vehicles swayed. The Arrow IV missiles would impact within seconds. The tanks and her Schiltron began moving. The upthreat Wolfhound and Valkyrie continued their limping retreat. The forward observers knew the RV.
She had issued the fire control orders and reattack pre-plans hours ago. Salvo spreads were largely established by doctrine and tailored by circumstance. The expertise lay in setting the conditions for success.
The Zeus staggered as the first missile denotated against its thick chest. Two more ripped away its right leg as others fell upon the toppling ‘Mech. The Blackhawks leapt into the air, but the homing missiles corrected and smashed them to the ground in pieces. The Enfield raised its arms then disappeared in a cacophony of exploding warheads. Within heartbeats, only acrid-smelling smoke moved in the clearing, drifting amongst blackened, twisted metal.
The forward observers delivered their battle damage assessments and broke contact.
9th
