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UnderCurrent
A Dramatized Re-telling of the UnderCurrent Event
"By Pierre Havelock - OBE"
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UC Chapter Header A [https://i.imgur.com/LTseeZG.jpg]
Front 1 - First Day
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1.1 - Combat
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'One day, it's amazing how much difference one day can make' - Una pondered longingly.
One day ago had been her first aboard the battleship Am-Fluchtig.
One day ago, she hadn't been surrounded by the oppressive smell of freshly oiled machine parts. One day ago, she hadn't been staring down the barrel of an enemy rifle scope.
A faint streak of pulsing light soared past Una's screen, careering forward into a cluster of detritus that seemed to disintegrate to dust and explode all at once. Una quickly pulled at the two massive handles of the control grips, hurriedly moving herself and her machine further behind an enormous piece of lifeless silver metal.
She could feel the uncomfortable sensation from beads of sweat that glistened across her forehead, her hands clammy as they moved between the complicated equipment of her cockpit. In front of her was a series of monitor screens, some displaying grainy imagery of her surroundings, others streaming numbers indicative of the various complex systems running throughout her craft. Most of all, the largest screen is directly to the front, displaying the main camera feed.
Said feed currently showed two other mechs some distance away, hiding in their own field of rubble, her 'comrades-in-arms': The gruff older man, Kolme Nilas and the younger but equally worn-looking Sabban Vint.
She hadn't meant to fly so far ahead of her allies only to find somewhere out in space lay a Vijaik with a mighty rifle of some kind - Yet here she was. Taking a deep breath, she fumbled with a small board of switches on her right, flipping on the radio link to her allies.
As she waited for the connection to be established, Una couldn't help but notice Lieutenant Kolme's machine. While the same model as her own, a humanoid green and blue machine standing at around 18 metres tall, with orange visor and yellow vents standing out against the more drab base colours - Kolme’s was fitted with an additional array of non-standard gear compared to her own mech, including a litany of dishes and towers for sensing enemies, perched on one shoulder and a massive backpack fixed with two large cannons on its back.
Similarly, ensign Sabban's mechanical home boasted a sort of backpack consisting of multiple massive thrusters capable of allowing his machine to move at remarkable speeds over short distances - At the cost of an excessive amount of fuel.
Another of these 'customisations' caught her eye as she looked at the monitor, Sabban's duo of 'shotguns': somewhat anomalous weapons nowadays but this was hardly the time to be admiring her comrade's machines Una realised, as her radio finally received a reply;
"I told ya' not to stray ahead, lass," came the exasperated voice of the older man. He sounded almost like he had a palm to his face in despair.
"Strange--" the second voice Una identified as Sabban's, it was younger by rights yet the tone of it wasn't far off Kolme, "--they should have blasted the Rookie to bits by now, I mean that rubble she's behind is paper thin."
Una reflexively glanced behind herself to, of course, only see the back of her chair, her face flushed at this act.
"Hmm, I guess they're at it again," Kolme responded, sounding ever more dejected, "But that might not be all bad...ya let's do that then."
Una asked what he meant, and soon Kolme began to divulge a plan to the two younger pilots;
"----So think ya 'an handle that Rookie? I mean, before this, the lad and I had a little bet," Kolme finished with a tone of mischief.
'The Rookie' swallowed hard, "What sort of bet?"
"Oh, nothin' really. Sabban reckons ten to one: you'll get taken out first. But I think it's more like five to one, ya hear?"
Una couldn't exactly say she hadn't expected this sort of thing: hazing was normal when starting a new job, and she was well aware of her own inexperience. Still, she would have been lying if she had said it didn't sting a little to be talked about in such degrading terms.
Before she could try to think up a suitable retort, however, one of her machine's screens flashed a warning light in a startling bright red, while elsewhere, an alarm rang out, and mere seconds later (far too few for her to actually do anything about these alerts) a sleek navy blue line of solid light burst forth through the wall of metal she'd made her hiding place.
Watching on the screen as it soared ever onward, seemingly heading into the blackness of space without any sign of ever stopping. Una gulped down far harder this time, one of the smaller monitors indicated the blast had been only a couple inches away from hitting her.
"Ho-ho, looks like we're on kiddos. Sab-lad, I'll leave it to you."
Sabban didn't reply to Kolme's final comment so much in words as with a confident grunt. Una did her best to put in her own reply but found herself cut off as another blast, to her left, once again pierced through her scant cover - Only centimetres off this time.
By now she realised her hands weren't just clammy but downright pouring, any second could bring a third shot straight on top of her.
'Blue means it's very, very strong, right?'
She did her best to calm her breathing. It felt tight, as though something was squeezing her wind-pipe: she fought back the urge to open the cockpit in a vain attempt to get more air. Further, the place was warm, hazily so.
'The Plan, focus on the plan.'
It wasn't an especially complicated strategy, at least not on paper. Lt. Kolme seemed to think that the two enemy combatants were squabbling, hence why they had yet to make a proper assault or land a shot on Una's position. To that end, they would make the first move.
Utilising his superior thrusters, Sabban would take point and cover the distance as fast as needed, with Una falling in behind him. The closer they could get, the less effective the enemy's long-range rifle would be. That was the idea, anyway.
Una held her breath, trying her best to ready herself. There it was, Sabban's bulky custom mech breaking free from cover and bottling towards her at a remarkable speed, covering the distance in seconds.
And then it was gone.
----
Una blinked.
Whether it was nerves or mesmerisation at the sight of a sixty-tonne human-shaped rocket casually passing by, she had solidly missed her cue. Glancing briefly at the screen to see Kolme's mech, too, had made itself scarce, she painedly threw the controls to their full output and gave chase. Ahead was Sabban's machine: further past that, she could see their quarry. As Kolme had said, two machines lay ahead in an interesting formation:
One was painted in shades of cyan and a slightly lighter hue of emerald green to that of Una's own machine. On its back lay a massive rectangular shape with a slew of wires ejecting hence into an enormous rifle, easily five metres in length at a cursory glance.
The machine sat prone on one knee against some old rock debris, floating slowly through the blackness. It should have been ready to shoot both herself and Sabban easily out of the sky. However, to Una's relief, its head was pointed to the side, towards the other mech.
Where the sniper Vijaik was ready for action (withstanding its head) the other machine looked downright expressive. No weapons drawn, it floated alongside its ally, waving massive arms around, almost like a person trying to emphasise a point during a heated argument. It wasn't just these actions that Una noted as strange - The body of the machine was covered in thicker armour than her own, almost giving it an overweight look - And then there was the headpiece; The machine coloured in deep reds and greens had a sort of triangular head that rounded down into a curved shape. Said curve circled around in a three-hundred & sixty-degree band where a person's mouth level would be.
Una recognised the type from her days in training. They had been a popular design among Abhailien pilots during The First War - A bright red orb glowed inside the pyramidal dome, which moved freely, allowing for a far narrower field of vision but one that could look around in all directions. Several smaller pinprick-lights also adorned the strange machine's visage in an almost creepy, spider-like fashion.
Eyes of The Red Vijaik [https://i.imgur.com/o8Ni7pq.jpg]
With both enemy machines now properly in sight, Una wasn't entirely sure what to think. A mix of embarrassment and nerves had held her until moments ago, but now apprehension at just what exactly she was up against swept over,
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
'Focus on the plan. That's all I need to do.'
As if to answer her internal thinking, the two machines turned, clearly having detected the encroaching threat. Una cursed their luck and lay a hand to her radio. She switched on an open signal length, being spotted no longer a worry.
"Sab- Ensign, they've seen us, w-what now?" She said quickly, to the point of stumbling over her words.
They were moving fast but not enough, the enemy was still leagues ahead of them. The riflemen would have no issue picking off two objects moving in straight lines at this distance. Despite the danger, Sabban's reply was brief; "Trust Kolme's plan, Rookie."
With that his microphone cut off. Una readied herself for the worst. Just like before, a single bolt of blue lighting streaked a colourful line across the blackness of empty space, this time aimed squarely at Sabban.
It only takes a second for something like that to reach its goal. Apparently, a second was all he needed as Sabban's mech twirled elegantly to one side in an impressive barrel-roll action, the accurately placed lightning bolt aimlessly passing by. Una's jaw dropped at the skill involved in such a movement, but that wasn't the last of the shocks. Dodge or not, any sensible pilot would fire again. Sabban had to keep dodging; even one minor hit would kill his momentum and leave him a sitting duck, while the sniper only had to get lucky once - But instead, just as Kolme had predicted in his earlier plan, the second mech (the one in red) surged forward, effectively blocking the line of sight for its own stationary ally.
Now was time for the second portion of Lt. Nilas's 'masterplan' - This had been where he had begun to grow more vague in the details.
Nonetheless, Una watched as Sabban carried it out to what could only be called the letter. Boosting forward at that rattling speed from before, he closed the distance with the almost as fast-approaching red mech.
In a flash too fast for Una to watch, they had both drawn their weapons. The red enemy had opted for one of the large, now seemingly flaming calabar blades that it swung from its back, forwards over its head in one single motion. Gripping it mightily in both hands like a giant greatsword made of thousands of grinding chainsaw teeth. While Sabban had gone for a more slender arc-staff in one palm, drawn sleekly from the waist in a single flourish, its telescopic components sliding outwards and the arc emitting into one single orange line of light - While grabbing one of his shotguns in the other palm.
The two machines colliding would surely have blown the eardrums of all in range had they not been in the crushing silence of space, with the arc-staff sizzling callously against the calabar blade. The staff was clearly the more durable of the two, but the red mech had put far more force behind its strike, handily pushing Sabban to one side - Only for him to round back with a shell from the shotgun, which, in turn the red machine dodged by throwing its thrusters into an impressive downwards manoeuvre - All giving the impression of the massive machine ducking out of sight beneath the shotgun's spread.
Una rapidly implemented her part of the plan: inaction now would be untenable. Carefully, she moved her own mech's speed back down to a crawl while piloting it into a space some distance behind the battle going on in front of her. In this manner, she could use the two fighters as a sort of shield, preventing the sniper from attacking her without the risk of hitting its own ally in red.
Now she merely had to wait, simply making sure to keep herself in the enemy's 'self-made blind spot' until the time was right. But it hardly felt like waiting. She had never partaken in a space battle like this one before. The simulations were always tame, pilots using simple techniques, mostly just trading blows with their rifles, seldom getting close enough to draw blades. There were so few competent snipers that, alone, would have been a new experience to witness - But to also see a close-quarters bout of this nature was wholly unique.
She observed as the two strove against one another again and again. Sabban's method, she quickly picked up, relied on speed and quantity. He would rush forward staff or gun first, only to feint to the left and go for a minor strike against an arm or leg of his opponent's armour - Moving in every and any direction seemingly at once and swapping between weapons without hesitation, his machine a murky brown blur.
On the other hand was the red enemy, which seemed to move entirely differently. Its hits were slower than Sabban's but more calculated, and each strike had severe weight behind it. Every strike seemed likely that, in the right circumstances, it could well be enough to wipe out a lesser pilot - But it wasn't just the heavier attacks that mattered.
Una watched as the red Vijaik fluidly ducked another of Sabban's staff strikes before letting go of the broadsword calabar mid-manoeuvre and drawing out an arc-staff of its own from the waist before striking upwards in an uppercut-stab motion.
Sabban had nowhere to run this time - He tossed out one of the shotguns, sacrificing it to take the brunt of the enemy strike before regaining his lost metaphorical footing.
That was the other difference Una noted between the two combatants, 'The red one is winning...'
She had almost forgotten it, and this time she cursed herself, 'Focus damn it, you'll always be called a ‘rookie’ if you keep messing your timings up.’
So enthralled with studying the two contrasting fighting styles of those before her, Una had nearly forgotten the next part of the plan. According to Kolme, Sabban would lose. There had been no hint of concern when he'd said this, and Sabban hadn't stirred either, but now, seeing it with her own eyes, Una began to doubt how exactly she was meant to change that outcome. It felt as though just getting close to the two enemy fighters might spell your doom.
The cold metal of the controls had now become uncomfortable against the sweat of her palms, and she was forced constantly to mop her brow. She took another deep breath, desperately trying to focus her breathing while the acrid smells of the cockpit filled her nose. It had to be correct. A second out and the sniper or the red-mech would have her.
Una’s mech all but stood stationary, only making small movements to keep in line with the battle: the sniper still held its place, never moving, always ready.
Sabban's mech glided forward rapidly, its remaining shotgun held out, arc-staff in his off-hand. Una watched as he blocked the enemy's blade and then raised his gun to chest height. Mere seconds off landing a direct hit to the torso region of the enemy, said foe replied in kind - Of all things, it backflipped effortlessly despite its stocky size and landed a kick squarely to Sabban's own chest area, causing his mech to spiral backwards from the force of impact made by the cartwheeling foe. The shotgun shells firing off against nothing but empty space, and his machine moved well into the range of the enemy sniper's sights.
Una rammed the control levers again, griped hard, and launched forward. Like a bullet with her shield held outstretched before her, she smashed bluntly into the unsuspecting red foe, the force causing it to move backwards until it could finally activate its own thrusters and halt the Rookie's approach.
Indeed, her momentum failed, and Una hung in the air almost peacefully for a moment or two, her shield pinned against the enemy's arms, the rest of her machine hanging lazily in the vacuous space behind the shield - Almost giving the appearance of a person leaping through the air to embrace another.
It had been enough. She had once more blocked the sniper's path with its own comrade's body and given Sabban time to recover. There was only one question remaining;
'What Now? Was that in the plan?'
She wetted her lips gently, filling her whole monitor was the face of the enemy, that strange sloping triangular head with the massive red eye that seemed to dwarf her whole being - And its collection of smaller red dots crawling around like those of some cruel insects, swarming all around her monitor screen.
It was a very long couple of seconds indeed. Una breathed as best she could.
The red mech began to move again, keeping one hand still a hold on her shield: it stretched the other to its side and drew forth one of its arc-staffs, the thin weapon sliding outwards like a telescope with painful tedium.
Una didn't know how to react. She reached for the thruster controls to try to put some distance between them, but she was far too slow. The arc-staff came colliding down between the shield and her Vijaik. In an instant, the front armour began to melt against the plasma, and her monitors all in unison began to flash a deep crimson hue matched only by that single red eye filling the main view-screen - The noise of the alarms alone dazzling her senses.
As for the red machine, its off-hand began to tense. It pulled back its shoulder, never releasing the hold it had of the shield, until finally, in one flush movement, it tore the shield free of its steading - All while spinning around, blade still in the other hand, slicing a second massive gash through Una's mech: in effect creating, searing violently, a massive cross-like shape across the entirety of her machine's upper body.
The impact was enough to cause Una's whole vehicle to drift haplessly backwards a few paces. She found herself thrown into the seat of the cockpit from the force of the onslaught, clutching at her stomach. Una gasped for air, now far harder to come by than she'd ever thought possible, as she writhed from the physical winding of the inertia.
Glancing upwards, desperately reaching out for the controls to do something, anything, she saw that single ominous eye once more, seemingly pulsing brighter than before. Mirrored only by the pale glow of the arc-staff now racing rapidly through the air towards her chest, in single fencing-like motion - To deliver the finishing blow.
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