fanfic_name = Gotterdammerung
chapter = II
author = Cicero Phelps
Rating = AP15
Type = Alternative Universe
fanfic = Chapter II
Well, it's not
the Blue Devil, but it'll do?Max thought ruefully as he traded the Apache gunship
for a generic flight officer model VT. The tan and white lines weren't GQ SDF-1,
but it appeared to be flightworthy. He just hated the fact that the VF-1A had
only one head laser instead of four.
Strapping in, he warmed up the engines and switched to Guardian mode. The incoming
enemies were raw recruits, and had their best skills in Battloid mode. Max wanted
the greatest range of weaponry available, as well as the most maneuverability.
He sighed, knowing that he probably trained a bunch of those pilots, and regretted
that he, their teacher, was going to be their instrument of destruction. War
was never fair, but it at least had a sense of humor.
He lined his troops in Guardian mode in two lines of mecha, twin infantry formation.
"Wraiths and Hawks, form up. We're going to be facing our former and future
comrades out there. I know it's not going to be easy killing someone wearing
the same uniform we are, but when we joined, we swore an oath to defend our
shipmates, our planet, and our vessel from all enemies, foreign or domestic.
"Your oath is what you're fighting for today. Your honor rests in the pilot's
yoke you hold in your hands. It is freedom and justice that we stand for, and
the defense of humanity, and all that makes us noble and decent. We stand, here
and now, for the last best hope this planet has for stability and prosperity.
Here we draw the line, this far and no farther. Suit up, people. Destiny awaits."
His private comm line lit up. "That was very eloquent, Maximillian. You're
a natural public speaker."
"Thanks, Mir, but I only spoke cuz I knew the guys were nervous."
"Well, as you Micronians say, 'Necessity is the mother of invention.'"
The incoming missile barrage cut off whatever reply Max made. It was like the
archer's storms of ages past, with wave after wave of low-yield missiles designed
for shock value more than destructive potential. "Don't gain altitude,
boys, they're trying to scare us into flying into their firing arcs. Stay in
formation."
One rookie got spooked. "No, Mitchell, stay in formation. It's a trick,"
Miriya yelled.
Mitchell blew apart in a wave of heat and light.
Artillery blasts landed near the front of the line. Max did some planning, knowing
that their laser batteries were trained to pick off aircraft at extreme ranges.
The only option was a full frontal Battloid engagement. Max and Miriya marched
to the front of the column and saw three full squads of Battloids marching their
way. "Able squad, take the right flank. Charlie squad, take the left. Hell
is riding our way, and we're all the SDF-1 has to protect it. Let them get to
point-blank range and let fly with all you've got."
The rookies charged the center of the line, and Max could tell that the pilots
were greener than grass. There was no coordination between soldiers, and no
overall strategy. There was just a wave of Battloids running towards his lines,
and missiles overhead, with artillery randomly hitting the field. "Like
the Korean war," Max muttered.
"What do you mean, boss," came an unknown voice.
"Human wave tactics, very sloppy, but highly effective. Howe must've had
to brainwash the hell out of these kids."
The missiles started falling back away from their position and towards the ship.
Max shouted, "All squads, breakout. Hit em and hit em hard."
The VT's counter-attacked along a mile-long front. Miriya and two of her mates
went towards the rear of the enemy line and took out the Archer missile launchers.
Max met the enemy line officer in hand-to-hand combat, praying for assistance
as he always did.
Our Father, who art in Heaven?
Max dodged a huge fist heading his way, backpedaling and trying to ready his
rifle.
Hallowed be Thy name?
The rifle got knocked away by a swift kick, leaving Max to assume a karate pose,
Veritech style.
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done?
He took a sideswipe at the opposing mech, denting its commander.
On Earth as it is in Heaven?
They closed with each other like prizefighters and traded shots with their huge
fists.
Give us this day our daily bread?
Max got the upper hand and threw the opponent downrange.
And forgive us our trespasses?
He charged ahead, knowing he had gained the upper hand.
As we forgive those who trespass against us?
He had to abandon the prayer, as the fighter he just tossed opened up on his
mech at close range with the minigun mounted under his right forearm. Max groped
for his rifle, and targeted the officer's cockpit. He sighed, breathed a whisper
for forgiveness, and took the shot. The cockpit exploded like cheap wine in
a pressurized chamber.
He looked around and saw that the rebels were steadily retreating. The artillery
was more sporadic and less concentrated, meaning Miriya and her boys had done
their job. He looked at his squad roster, and saw that only two pilots had been
damaged, none seriously. Thank the Lord for small favors.
The klaxon shrilled in his ears. He looked at the radar screen and saw incoming
missiles again. Waves of Guardian-mode VT's were sweeping in, and were trying
to make sure that there were no survivors. The tri-barreled mecha rifle bullets
came raining down like tears of lead on an unfertile landscape, harvesting mayhem
with every drop. Max regrouped his men and had them assume Guardian mode. The
pilots sought each other in single combat, while Max and Miriya took out the
artillery reinforcements coming up to the rear of the enemy's battle line.
"Wraith One to SDF-1 bridge, Rick, can you read me?"
"It's a go, Max, how's it going?"
"Not so good, the furball is getting really hairy. Where's that barrier?"
"Patched into the main reactor and rigged to blow the ship."
"You gotta be kidding me."
"Not at all. Lisa and the girls are hacking into the safeties, but they're
hitting snags left and right. We've got 45 minutes till we follow Dolza into
the Great Spacefold in the Sky."
"Sounds grim. We'll hang on, Rick. It'll be okay if we play our cards right."
"Bridge out."
Max looked at the enemy forces arrayed against them, and knew that they were
outnumbered. He had one and a half squads to stand against the three he was
engaged with now, and possibly another two heading their way within moments.
All of a sudden, the rebels disengaged and started retreating.
"Skull Eight to Wraith Leader, shall we follow and engage?"
"Negative, Eight. We're lucky they ran when they did. Hold your ground
and stay in formation."
"Wraith leader, this is the Bridge. Congratulations. The enemy is running
and the ship is saved. The bridge crew managed to reroute the energy buildup
into the weapons systems."
"Great day, then. A ship saved, an explosion averted, and casualties minimized.
Wraiths, Rogues, Hawks, Skulls, let's head home."