That was when Pyro began to dance. Dodging bullets to the left and then to the right he kicked in his jump jets and half a ton of reinforced battleframe soared into the air. Rather than brace for the gun’s recoil he took advantage of the kinetic energy induced by the bullets as it shunted him across the battlefield and away from his friends. In their bloodlust, the Scourge did not realise that they had split into two large groups: The first continued to focus their fire upon Bosk and the rest of the Earthmen. The second group threw everything they had at the “StarBlade’s” son leaping about in front of them. The Scourge had given Whizzbang the name “StarBlade” but unknown to them, the StarBlade was not a single person but a squad. Now he had the Scourge’s attention, Pyro’s challenge was to remain alive.
Scourge bodies lay twitching on the ground in his wake as Pyro lightly landed atop a massive boulder balanced on the crest of the hill. He was three hundred meters away from the others and could see that he had bought them enough time to regroup. Gulping in a lung full of air, bullets once zinged around him. In his dance across the battlefield, his frame had taken an awful pounding with the repairing nanites no longer able to keep up with the damage.
Pyro sighed, it looked as if he was about to experience his first eport. Like his father, he believed that while there was life there was hope and he chose to never give up. It was time to move and move fast and so Pyro kicked in his jets.
Down the slope, a lone Scourge Sniper sited Pyro and pulled the trigger just as his target spun and fired its jump jets. Rather than boring a hole through Pyro’s chest the laser burrowed its way through the weakened thigh plating and on out the other side.
“Oh frap, I’m hit,” Pyro spluttered across the comnet.
The time that Pyro had bought the rest of the squad had given Kheldar in his BioTech battleframe the time to deal out huge doses of repairing nanites to Bosk, Elzetro and DG. While this was happening, DG deployed one heavy and five anti-personnel auto turrets to do as much damage as possible to the Scourge that were now only twenty meters from the hill’s crest.
Pyro soared through the air on his jets even while he felt waves of intense, overwhelming pain in his upper left leg wash over him with each beat of his heart. If it was not for the structural integrity of the Dreadnaught’s frame, his weakened leg would have given way and he would have been flipping his way down the other side of the hill on blasted jets.
Pyro glanced down at his leg as he flew through the air and watched with grim detached fascination at the trail of blood pouring from the wound wafting down towards the Scourge below. Thankfully, the pain was rapidly decreasing as his battleframe’s medical systems injected swarms of nanomeds to heal the wound while providing a huge dose of Evkon 316 to relieve the pain. The downside of the pain relief was that, for a few crucial seconds, he felt like he was outside his own body as it soared in a straight line over the battlefield. His deadly darting dance ceased and made him an ideal target for the Scourge below. Thankfully, his battleframe automatically adjusted to support his weakened leg and relieve some of the stress.
Down on the ground the Scourge Sniper said uttered a few curses. Having missed the kill shot and he followed the target through his scope. With a rictus smile, his finger tightened on the trigger.
As he glided towards his friends, Whizzbang peered through his Charge riflescope and watched his son’s incredibly brave act of putting himself in harm’s way. A slight twitch of his energised wings was the only indication that he felt anything as he watched the ruby beam of death slam through Pyro’s leg. Whizzbang was in the zone.
The zone was the personification of brutal calmness. It was the essence of being focused with a singular purpose. Every sense hyper-aware and time itself seems to slow as the acceleration of thought becomes ideas and ideas become actions. You can feel the wind moving the hairs on the back of your hand, smell an enemy from a hundred meters away and hear a heart beating around a corner. Being in the zone is what helped Whizzbang and his squad earn the Scourge name “StarBlade”.
The Scourge sniper did not stand a chance. The flash of blue light from Whizzbang’s Charge rifle streaked past Pyro and penetrated the Sniper’s neck, gushing purple blood in all directions. A Shock Trooper met a similar fate just as Whizzbang folded his wings, kicked his jets and reached out to grab Pyro and drag him back down on the far side of the hill to temporary safety. They both hit the ground on their backs and rolled a few times to a stop. A flight instructor had once told Whizzbang, “Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing.” This was a good one.
Speaking calmly from within the serenity of the zone, Whizzbang used battlespeak, “Whizzbang to Bosk. Will retrieve Pyro. Retreat, southern building, abandoned village.”
Bosk glanced around at DG, Kheldar and Elzetro, who upon hearing the order were already laying down covering fire to guard the quick retreat. He spoke into the comnet, “CT Whizzbang, southern house stat.”
Whizzbang knew that he had at the most three seconds before the first wave of Scourge crossed the crest of the hill. They had to move fast and move now. He quickly inspected Pyro’s wound and saw that the nanomeds were doing their miraculous work and the armour hole it slowly closing over courtesy of the nanites. A similar healing would be happening to Pyro’s leg.
Floating in the emotionless void of the zone he asked, “Pyro, you GTG?”
Pyro’s eyes flickered open and his infectious smile split across his face as he said, “Dad, I’m G2G.”
Whizzbang looked into Pyro’s eyes, studying every feature from within the serenity of the zone. He noted the pulse on his son’s temple, viewed the capillaries that paraded across his eye for signs of stress and even listened to the air as it filled Pyro’s lungs. Whizzbang thought, “Yes, he’s G2G”
Whizzbang said, “Pyro, destination southern building village.”
“CT Whizz,” Pyro replied as he gingerly got to his feet.
Chapter 8
Out of the Frying Pan
Whizzbang dropped a glider pad and indicated for Pyro to go first. Rather than jumping upwards, Pyro propelled himself horizontally so that he remained out of sight of the Scourge just now coming towards the top of the hill. Unlike his son, Whizzbang jumped straight upwards into the air and in one smooth motion, he shouldered his Charge rifle and pulled out his grenade launcher. Lobbing explosive shells along the top of the ridge, he created a smoke screen to help disguise the retreat. Before he lost all his height, Whizzbang turned back down the hillside and glided only a few feet off the ground all the way to the abandoned house.
The house would have been two stories high but was now missing its roof and part of its second story walls. The surrounding debris suggested that it had once formed a section of a crumbling barricade during a previous battle.
The village must have been beautiful once, with its sandstone buildings and spectacular views overlooking the valley up towards Freehold and the ocean to the east. Repeated Scourge incursions and firefights had now turned it into a perpetually smouldering ruin. Even as he arrowed towards the house’s open doorway Whizzbang sighed and thought, “How were they going to get out of this one?”
Retracting his wings at the last second, he skidded into the house and nearly collided into Bosk in his haste. Panting with exersion he quickly asked, “Report.”
Bosk understood that Whizzbang had entered battlespeak and replied similarly, “All frames G2G. DG and Elzetro, turrets strategic locations, second floor. Kheldar, eyes on Scourge.”
Whizzbang turned his head on the side to speak more clearly into his comnet, “Kheldar, enemy numbers, type, position.”
“Over one hundred Scourge, all types present, stopped on hilltop” Kheldar clipped back.
Bosk sighed in relief and said under his breath, “Frap, I’m glad they’ve stopped.”
Whizzbang turned to Bosk and said, “We must get the Scourge off the top of the hill!”
“What the?”
“Selfia, Acheron and Tiny won�
�t surprise them from Research Ravine if they have the high ground.”
“Oh frap!” was Bosk’s only reply.
Kheldar’s voice cracked over the comnet again, “Scourge porting in artillery.”
Now it was Whizzbang’s turn to say, “Oh frap!”
Not trusting the half-destroyed stairs Whizzbang jump jetted up to Kheldar’s position on the second level. Bosk and Pyro quickly followed. Kheldar pointed up the hill and said, “You can see the tip of the artillery piece forming just to the right of that big boulder.
“CT Kheldar,” Whizzbang said as he pulled his Charge rifle out of its shoulder harness and put the riflescope to his eye. He then dialled in maximum magnification to better look at the enemy’s position. Sure enough, the Scourge had brought with them a portable TransWarp to teleport in the massive artillery pieces and reinforcements. Once the warping was complete, Whizzbang and his squad would be the first targets. They would not stand a chance.
Dropping back to the urgency of battlespeak Whizzbang turned to Bosk and ordered, “Defend position!” He then pointed to himself and said, “I’ll, destroy TransWarp and get Scourge attention!”
Bosk’s eyes widened in surprise and he grabbed Whizzbang’s arm to stop his friend. Whizzbang turned and forced out a smile. “Bosk, I’ll be fine. Someone has to do it. Just keep the door open when I return.”
“We’ll be ready” Bosk replied sincerely.
Pyro looked at both his father and uncle which a quizzical look on his face. “What’s going on Dad?” he asked.
Whizzbang stepped over to his son and embraced him as well as he could in their armour. He whispered, “There’s something that I’ve got to do.” Just do what uncle Bosk says and get ready for my return.”
Releasing the hug Pyro looked across at this father and said, “Dad?”
With a slight watering of his eyes and catch in his throat Whizzbang smiled and whispered, “Got to go son.”
Pyro watched as his father disappeared upwards through the broken roof of the house on flaming jets. He wondered if it was going to be the last time that he saw him. Bosk laid his hand on Pyro’s back and said compassionately, “Pyro, if there is one thing that I know about your dad and that he’s a survivor. He’ll be back. In the meantime, let’s get to work. We’ve got to make this place as defensible as possible.”
Whizzbang shot upwards out of the second story of the derelict house with the determination of a battleframe pilot that knew the lives of his squad depended upon his next moves. He had to shut down the TransWarp to stop the artillery from materializing as well as enrage the Scourge so that they would leave the vantage point of the hill. This would then give Selfia and the Freehold reserve the surprise they would need to slam into the right flank and rear of the enemy.
Whizzbang continued to climb by jump jetting from one rocky outcrop to another until he deemed he was high enough to drop down a glider pad. Stepping onto the whirling platform it thrust him vertically into the air and within a few seconds he was high above the landscape looking across at the hillside with the two huge Scourge artillery pieces slowly materialising and becoming more solid every second. It would only be a minute or so and they would be able to fire.
One of the great things about gliding was that it was silent; the downside was you were always losing altitude. Luckily, the Scourge were more concerned about “The StarBlade” down the bottom of the hill and it did not occur to them to look upwards. As he peered through the scope at the TransWarp, Whizzbang thought, “Why do targets always look so frapping small?”
Whizzbang knew that he had to wait until the last minute to take his shot so that the full power of his Charge rifle could penetrate the TransWarp’s outer casing. The further away the shot the less the intensity of the beam.
A Scourge Sniper watched a flickering shadow travelling over the ground and glanced upwards with curiosity. Its cry of alarm ended in a stifled gurgle as Whizzbang’s blue Charge rifle beam punched through its neck. Their fallen comrade and flash of blue light still alerted the rest of the Scourge warriors that they were under attack.
Whizzbang angled further downwards to increase his speed while simultaneously aiming at the TransWarp swinging wildly in his sniper scope. A plasma discharge from a Juggernaut’s cannon missed by mere inches and he felt the heat as it passed by his right wing. Bullets raked the sky around him and a few pinged off his armour but his increased speed made him a difficult target to hit as he erratically darted one way and then another in an effort to elude those below. This increased the chance of missing his shot but at least he had a chance. Dead he would have none.
Perspiration poured off his face but once again, Whizzbang found himself in the serenity of the zone. His muscles automatically twitched so that he dodged bullets, his peripheral vision picked out Scourge Snipers that were beginning to get a bead on him and he automatically took evasive action, all the while he zeroed in on the TransWarp.
Down at the house Bosk watched his friend’s glide through his scope. He had always known that Whizzbang was good at gliding but now he truly understood just how good he was in the air. He winced as another bolt of plasma passed through a spot just vacated by his friend. It was terrifying, awe inspiring and riveting watching Whizzbang do the impossible. All the while, the clock kept ticking as he continued to lose height.
“Pyro, your father is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Bosk said in an awed voice while never taking his eye away from the scope. He did not need to see Pyro straighten up as only a proud son could do. Bosk knew in his heart that he had said the right thing. “That young man is going to go places,” he thought to himself.
The artillery was now almost completely materialised. Whizzbang suddenly pulled up so abruptly that he nearly stalled his wings. The air instantly filled with Scourge weapons fire. The sudden change in his trajectory was all that saved him. With the split second of respite, he carefully aimed at the TransWarp and pressed the firing stud. The blue energy beam leaped from his gun muzzle like some joyous stallion finally let lose in a pasture full of mares.
Within the zone, Whizzbang knew that the shot was perfect. True to his premonition it slammed into the side of the TransWarp, spewing metal fragments in all directions as it flayed open the machine and ravaged its insides. Below him, Whizzbang heard a cry of dismay from the Scourge as the TransWarp’s control panel spluttered and winked out. With the receiving TransWarp destroyed, the nearly solid Scourge artillery slowly vanished in the void of subspace.
Without the proper controls governing the TransWarp, its internal tellurite reactor suddenly sprang free from its artificial constraints. With a screeching and wrenching of metal, it went rapidly critical. Like a miniature volcano, the TransWarp erupted upwards and outwards with the simultaneous explosive force of five hundred tellurite infused grenades.
Scourge dove to the left and right to get out of the way of the molten rock and metal fragments flying in all directions. Several caught the full force of the detonation and shattered fist sized shards of plasteel punched through Scourge armour and out the other side leaving a path of death in their wake. All thought of the StarBlade up above was momentarily forgotten in the ensuing confusion.
Thankfully, Whizzbang had sped past the crippled TransWarp and out of range of the exploding reactor. He used the remainder of his height to reach the large boulder that his son Pyro had been standing on recently on the crest of the hill.
De-energising his wings, he slowed his speed with a few quick steps and spun around to survey his handiwork. A small crater with smoke billowing out of it now replaced the TransWarp. Perhaps twenty to thirty Scourge found themselves caught in the blast and the remainder were obviously dazed from the explosive shockwave. Warriors lay moaning on the ground, holding their heads in their clawed hands, obviously in pain. Purple blood oozed from ruptured eardrums caused by the rapid compression of the air as it instantaneously vacated the centre of the explosion. Twisted bodies entwined themselves within ma
ngled machinery in a grotesque parody of creatures from a bygone age.
A barest flicker of a smile intruded into the zone. Now that the artillery was out of commission and at least a quarter of the Scourge incapable of resistance, it was on to stage two of his plan. Looking down at the Scourge, he watched as warriors slowly regain their feet. A number of officers even began to bark out orders to regroup. Whizzbang knew that he had to get the Scourge off that hilltop.
Down below in the house, with the only scope in the group, Bosk continued to relay to the other members of the squad what was happening. Other than a loud bang, the TransWarp explosion was welcome but it did not have any impact upon the squad. Speaking across the local comnet he stated flatly, “Gentlemen, get ready, I believe that it’s about to be our turn.”
Up on his boulder Whizzbang did the oddest thing. He danced. It was not a dance of death but a dance born out of the joy of still being alive. It was also a dance aimed at taunting the Scourge not more than three hundred meters away.
A Juggernaut was the first to see Whizzbang dancing and his bright pink eyes nearly exploded out of his head with anger. The StarBlade had the audacity to attack them single-handed and then dance afterwards! Like ripples formed by a stone cast into a pond, one Scourge after another turned their heads towards Whizzbang as he danced on the top of the boulder. A powder keg of rage exploded through the Scourge as they screamed their defiance at this mere human. Shouting obscenities in their unspeakable language, they swung their multitude of weapons towards him.
Battleframe (The Mindwars Book 1) Page 21